And So Begins Our Epic Romance
by fAteD lOvE
Summary: WARNING - Update is not a new chapter. Just a little note to whoever is still wanting to know what's going on with this fic. The war of Galbatorix's era has long passed, but the fated love between Eragon and Arya has not. A tale of how the old acquaintances meet again, fall in love and find their heart's desire. Will they realize it in time, through past lovers and lurking foe.
1. Chapter 1: Fated Reunion

Yo! Thank you those who have reviewed my other stories, and if you haven't…evil glare. So, I have decided to torture you readers with another of my finished fanfics that I have sitting, collecting dust in a folder on my computer. I have found a really cool way of not leaving stories unattended and half finished, it seems to work for me anyway: what you do is write the whole story, in order beginning to end, not skipping some parts to do later, and miraculously, voila! The problem was before that I did chapter by chapter and not really having a detailed and structured plot. Learn from the master…

Anyway…hope this is up to par!

Before you read: This fic should be between a T and M rating, for some possible chapters, so under 14-15's go away, maybe later nonexplicit small-moderate adult themes, mod violence

Genres: angst/hurt & comfort/drama

AN/ Arya is around 160, Eragon is about 80-85, Murtagh 85-90ish, Nasuada has an unnaturally long life 80ish (Murty and Nas's kid 45, already a fully fledged rider, training to take up throne), Orik…who knows? Roran and Katrina 82ish (they have a son, who has a wife) anyone I've missed out? Oh and Islanzadi isn't dead yet. Mr and Mrs Orik haven't had kids yet, but I mean come on, they're nearly immortal.

Disclaimer: All hamsters used for my diabolical writing experiments belong to Chris P. He came up with the idea of Eragon, published the idea, copyrighted the idea, and now, we fanfiction writers of Alagaesia are here to steal the idea for our own purposes.

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Chapter One : Fated Reunion

It was a stormy, rainy day. Mist coated the window and snow fell in heaps outside.

In the small two story house, a handsome man sat in front of a roaring fireplace, a cup of steaming tea in his hands, he leaned on a sapphire blue dragon, whose head was rested upon her two front paws.

It had been close to sixty years since the defeat of Galbatorix, and even now, the former empire was still recovering and rebuilding to its former glory.

Eragon had completed the city of Doru Areaba and Vroengard. It was temporarily in the hands of a capable Murtagh, while Eragon took a prolonged holiday in Carvahall, where he build himself a dwelling, close to where Roran lived with Katrina and also where their son and his wife dwelled.

There was a soft knock at the door. He got up reluctantly and strode to the heavy wooden entry, hand picking up his sword from a hook on the way.

He cautiously opened the door.

"Arya?" His eyes widened, he had not seen her for nigh thirty years, ever since he was made the overlord of the Riders and Alagaesia's protector.

She stood shivering, wrapped in a thick black coat, her raven hair unbound and shifting slightly in the breeze. Snow dusted her hair and shoulders, and making her nose pink with the cold.

"Eragon."

Eragon's eyebrows furrowed, "What are you-" He broke off abruptly, shaking his head.

He stood aside, "Come in," he politely put his hand on her back and waited her to pass him before shutting the door firmly.

"Let me take your coat." He said, taking a hold of a corner of the garment and assisting her in taking it off.

He showed her to the main room and went to the kitchen to fetch her a drink.

When he entered the room again, he found Arya staring at one particular fairth out of a couple others mounted on the wall above his mantelpiece.

"Who is this woman?" Arya asked, gesturing at the picture where Eragon and a pretty blonde woman stood in front of an orange sunset. His arms were encircled around her middle and her hands were resting on his. Her head was tilted back, resting on his shoulder and her amber eyes gazed dreamily at Eragon, who was looking out at the viewer. Both had extremely happy smiles stretched across their faces.

"That…" Eragon sighed, his eyes distant and reminiscent. His lips curled upward in a bitter smile.

"I shall tell you another time perhaps." He focused on her once again.

She was silent, but her eyes roved across the other portraits.

One of a young dark skinned woman with a thick black braid slung across one shoulder, her eyes warm and wise with a bloody battleground as a backdrop.

A smaller picture of an adorable young toddler with beautiful blue eyes, waving.

Another of a man, who sat regally upon a majestically crimson dragon, although the focus of the picture was far from the two, their faces were sharp, their emotions readable by one looking at the picture.

A stocky dwarf sat on a crystal encrusted throne, although his face was serious, his eyes danced with humor and friendliness, in one hand he held the staff like object _Volund_.

The last was a large depiction of a crowning, the dark woman from before and the dragon rider kneeling before two important looking elders, holding hands, while lips moving in the ancient vows of monarchy, eyes bright and upcast, the crowds from the farthest reaches of Alagaesia, Urgals, villagers, elves and dwarves alike assembled in front of the dais, cheering and some tearful.

Arya, also, had eyes clouded with memory, she sighed. "Such a long time ago."

Eragon nodded.

She turned away and looked at him, "It has been a while, as well, since I have seen you."

"And I you."

Then he waved his hand towards the left, "Sit," He said politely.

She accepted an armchair near to the fire, while Eragon rested himself beside Saphira again, facing her.

Saphira raised her noble head, and gazed at Arya with intensity, _We meet again, Arya_.

"So it seems," Arya replied, inclining her head towards the dragon, who reciprocated the action.

Eragon was about to ask a question when another knock came, unlike Arya's appearance, this one was loud and enthusiastic, as if there were several little child fists were knocking.

"Barzul," Eragon swore quietly, "I forgot."

Saphira snorted.

Eragon looked uncomfortable, "Lady Drottingnu, I- "

Arya held up a hand, "If I am intruding upon you, I will le- "

Eragon interrupted, "No, no, it's not that, it's just that…I have company, I was wondering if you wanted to be seen here."

"I have no objections, but I will not be in the way." She stood.

"No, it is fine, my visitors aren't picky at all who joins us."

He made his way over to the door when the knocking came furiously again.

He took a deep breath and opened the door.

A loud cry of "Master Eh-gan!" Came from the entrance. A crowd of speedy blurs came in, arms wrapping around his legs and Eragon was cuddled furiously, little children jostling each other to get close to him.

Eragon turned to see a bewildered Arya standing tentatively behind him, eyebrow cocked, apparently she came to investigate the clamour.

A dozen pink and round faces from a few inches above his knees beamed at him, the little ones were wrapped warmly in thick coats, scarves around their necks, chubby hands pushed into fluffy mitts, small feet encased in snow boots and woolen hats covering their head and ears. As usual the muttering broke out, "master Eh-gon's sooo tall still, he's taller den my daddy, wayyyy talla." The little girls giggled and watched Eragon with admiring looks.

Eragon assisted them in taking off their numerous clothing, leaving them in woolen cardigans, and hanging everything up in a closet beside the door.

"What is this?" Arya had kept quiet until now.

Eragon rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "Every full moon, the children from the village come to my house and we…have some fun…"

When Arya still did not speak, he continued, "It's a tradition now, I'll tell you the beginning later, it's a long story, and a funny one."

Finally, she stirred, her face broke into a smile, albeit a small one, she was still nervous and reserved, conceivably disorientated from her surroundings.

"Are you going to build a giant snowhut for us and a campfire in it for us this time, Master Eh-gon?" A young boy asked, eyes wide and filled with laughter.

"Or show us magic!" A girl screamed, throwing her arms high into the air.

Eragon smiled and picked up a girl and a boy into each of his arms, leading them all into the large room.

He pointed to Arya, "Children, I would like to introduce you to Princess Arya, she lives with elves in the forest!"

The girls stared with large eyes while the boys chattered excitedly when the term 'elves' was mentioned.

Then a barrage of questions came all at once, fired quickly at the unsuspecting Arya.

"You're a PRINCESS?" A girl asked, "Do you get the nice dresses and shoes as well?"

Arya cleared her throat, "I-"… but was interrupted.

"You don't _look_ like a princess." A boy stated, hands firmly on waist.

The addressed looked down at him, "Well, n-"

"Can** I **be a pwincess?" Asked the youngest looking one in the lot.

"Of course, you ca-"

Another, older girl, "What do you-"

She was interrupted by Eragon, "Children, lets not pester the princess with our questions, who wants a cup of hot chocolate?"

A loud cheering came up and hands waved in the air.

Eragon herded them into the kitchen and seated them at the crowded kitchen table in the middle.

Arya lingered, watching Eragon interact with the village younglings, looking at him, her eyes softened and she let a fond smile grace her lips. She could not help thinking that he would be a wonderful father one day.

After countless eruptions of laughter and a wild egg fight, everyone had their drink and left the eggshell covered kitchen.

They settled comfortably by the fire, children surrounded Eragon, sitting in his lap, leaning on him and several were climbed all over Saphira and clinging to the magically blocked spikes of the dragon.

'Wadda we do now, mister Eh-gon?" Said a small girl with pigtails.

"What do you want to do? I haven't planned anything for tonight, my apologies." Eragon asked, looking around.

"Tell us of a story, master!"

There was a chorus of assent.

Eragon looked thoughtful for a while.

"Once, in a village, secluded and isolated from the rest of Alagaesia, where people lived in harmony and friendship, there was a teenaged farm boy. He was out hunting one day, when he happened upon a sapphire stone, well, that's what he thought in the beginning anyway, and alas, that _was_ the beginning, the beginning of everything…

Eragon launched into a narrative of his own life, lost in the world of the past. His listeners were attentive and fascinated, they leaned forward, seeming to absorb each of his words as he continued to speak, even Arya looked interested.

It was a long time until he finally reached the end, "…and so, it was then, they decided to go their own ways, the dwarf, the she-elf, the varden leader and the red and blue riders."

He looked around, seeming to have been brought out of his reverie at the end of the story. Some of the smaller ones were asleep on each other or in tangles of limbs on the warm floor.

An older girl asked him, eyes still interested and inquiring, "are those people still alive today?"

Eragon answered, "yes, it was a real story, all are alive, and I have met them."

Eyes widened.

"Who was the rider?" asked a male.

"You will know when you are meant to know." Eragon responded.

"So what happened to them now, mister?" Asked a childishly high voice from his right.

"Well, sweet Abigail, the dwarf became the king of his nation. The elf returned to her people. The varden leader is a queen, and rule over a country with her husband, the red rider. And the blue rider…well, the blue rider…" He faltered again.

"Rebuilt his race again, to protect the innocent and weak." Arya filled in for him kindly.

A little girl perched on Saphira asked with a curious voice, "Did the others find happiness in romance as well?"

Eragon's face seemed to darken a bit, "I wouldn't know about that, I'm sorry."

"Mister Eh-gan, did you eva git married?" Came another question.

Arya's head tilted upwards a bit.

Eragon's face, if possible, darkened even more, but the children didn't seem to take the hint.

Then he sighed, "yes, I was once…but that was a long time ago, a different and long story we will save for another time."

The children groaned and protested, but accepted in the end.

As quiet descended over the small gathering, the young ones began dropping to sleep one by one. Eragon carefully stood up and arranged some on the large, fluffy white rug in front of the cheerily and comfortably warming fire, some on the many couches and pillows scattered around. He took some warm blankets from the storage and lovingly covered each sleeping child.

Finally, he straightened and stretched, his back popping with faint clicks.

He turned, and found Arya off in sleep. He smiled, amused.

Approaching her, he cautiously slipped her boots off, left her as she was in her thick inner coat over her tunic and soft breeches, arranged her into a more comfortable looking position on the overly large settee she had fallen asleep on that was more than large enough for her, and covered her also, in a pink blanket.

He took all their cups into the kitchen, cleaned up the egg ridden war zone, stoked the fire to keep it going long into the night, yawned, and fell fast asleep against Saphira.

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Hopefully I've started off on the right foot and even though this chapter is rather boring, read on because I reckon it gets better later. If I get enough feedback I might be tempted to release another fic… 

Please read my other stories if you haven't and…lol, I am unashamedly advertising my works

REVIEW PLEASE

P.s I'm still deliberating who to dedicate this story to so…my faithful fans who REVIEW…it might be one of you :-D


	2. Chapter 2: Start of Something New

Since I received so many reviews -- so far 14 for one chapter is pretty good I guess – I decided to spoil youse with the next one! It wasn't going to be four pages on Microsoft word, but I didn't know where exactly to split it into two, and if I did, it wouldn't have been as effective. Lucky you.

Enjoy and please review, it doesn't take that long, just a nice word or comment.

Disclaimer: All hamsters used for my diabolical writing experiments belong to Chris P. He came up with the idea of Eragon, published the idea, copyrighted the idea, and now, we fanfiction writers of Alagaesia are here to steal the idea for our own purposes

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Chapter 2: Start of Something New

When Arya awoke, it was long past daybreak and close to second meal. She had not anticipated she had been so tired yesterday, but guessed that the night's happenings had relaxed her considerably and eased her into a peaceful dream.

A tantalizing smell of toasted grain rolls with melted cheese and herbal tea convinced her to get up. She shed her coat and laid it neatly over the shoulder of the coach. Arya realized that the children had gone, and assumed they had returned to their families.

Following her nose to the kitchen, she found Eragon standing with his back to her in front of a cooker.

"Good morn to you, master Shadeslayer."

She watched as he turned around, startled, nearly dropping the pan he held.

He was wearing a pink flowery apron, and uncharacteristically, she found hysterical giggles broiling around in her stomach and making its way up her throat. Eragon's face turned a pinkish colour, mumbling under his breath how the apron had been a gift.

"Oh, it's you Lady Drottingnu, forgive me, I did not hear you arising." He bowed, "Atra …."

She waved him off breezily, unwinding slowly but surely, feeling like half her present age suddenly, and feeling happier than she had in decades.

"No need to be formal, Shadeslayer, this is your house, after all, I should be I who is paying homage." She said to him.

"I have not been called that for long, I have not seen the other races for decades, spending almost all my time on Vroengard with my students." Eragon mused.

"What are you called there?" Arya asked curiously.

"Just 'Lord Rider' by the elders and important people, or 'Master Eragon' and 'Lord Eragon' …countless others… He responded, "But please, just call me Eragon for old time's sakes." He said after a pause.

She nodded, "Then you must address me as simply, Arya. I confess, it has been long since someone has addressed me so informally, I am tired of being spoken to so exaltedly."

"Well, most _exalted_ Arya svit-kona," Eragon said with a flourish and a bow, not used to using her name so familiarly after so long and settling on a more comfortable version, "allow me to present to you, your royal breakfast…I have been practicing my cooking skills, hopefully it won't be too far from your expectations."

Arya found herself unwinding and warming up to Eragon's friendly company, she felt less restricted, a feeling she could not even remember properly. She smiled at him.

Eragon pulled her seat out and with a graceful sweep of his hand, placed her and his breakfasts on the table.

She sat, picking her knife and fork up, waiting until he put himself in his seat.

"Dig in." He said, then diving, groveled furiously into his food.

Letting a chuckle escape her lips, she also started on hers.

It was certainly…not what she had expected…she was surprised by his cooking, it was at a very acceptable standard.

She glanced up after a while at Eragon, and blinked a little in surprise. He had already finished and was looking at her with an intent, indecipherable look in his eyes.

She set aside her utensils reluctantly and laced her fingers together, settling them in her lap.

There was a light pause.

"I guess I owe you an explanation, Eragon." Arya said carefully.

He gave a slight shrug, "That would be helpful."

She sighed, "In Ellesmera, after sixty years of wandering around without a sense of purpose, a job was offered to the people; as an ambassador to Vroengard. The job was to speak with the elders and the council, but mostly you."

He nodded, after her time serving as the ambassador to the Varden, it was only predictable that she would feel comfortable taking this new job.

"Naturally, hoping for excitement and a wish to see old friends, I presented my services. As like last time, my mother was not pleased, but wanting to avoid a situation alike said time, she grudgingly and reluctantly agreed when I reminded her that several powerful Riders would be at my destination to guard me, including you. I decided to go alone, but did not tell my mother of my plans, merely informing her of my departure and my estimated length of absence before I returned," Arya's fingers fiddled with the fork next to her plate.

"Traveling through the Northern forests, I made a turn through this valley as a shortcut southward. I wasn't expecting a band of rebels, no-one had any idea that they were still quite a large band, but they somehow managed to track and ambush me. We fought, but reinforcements arrived and I had to make my escape. I had lost my provisions when I fought and this town was the closest secure civilization known around the area."

Eragon looked thoughtful at this new revelation, making a note to dispatch a team of riders to look at the situation. He had not known that there was still an uprising in the far north.

Arya continued, "I thought I might be welcomed by the inhabitants of this village that remember me as your companion, I knew they had forgiven me for my aloofness toward you because of your example to them. Coming into here, I could not sense your presence beforehand, but as you very well know, when you spend enough time with someone, his or her essence is imprinted in your memory, so even if they are blocking their mind, you can find them."

Eragon nodded again, then jumped a little when Saphira entered his mind, listening to Arya's conversation and gave her a small greeting, receiving one in return.

"I found you at this house, and decided to drop in for a visit. As you can see, I have stayed longer than I had anticipated, oddly, last night, I lost my sense of time." She finished, and seeing he was still trying to absorb all the information, kept quiet.

Eragon finally lifted his head from staring at his steaming mug, "When do you plan to be on your way? You traveled to see me and here I am, unless you would like to speak to the council first and await my return in a few months on our stronghold? You are quite welcome to stay here if you like, and return with me, I can show you around, and do some catching up."

Arya considered for a moment, taking in Eragon's new seemingly just platonic stance towards her. "Very well, I guess a break would do well for me I think."

"Good then," he slapped the table, a solid thump resounding off the sturdy pine, "I will go get your room ready."

Arya stood, her chair scraping back with a hair-raising screech, "and I will clean the dishes."

Eragon was about to protest, but Arya held up a hand, "I have to repay your accommodation and hospitality in some way, Eragon. It is not a hard job to do, I am not a pampered princess."

His shoulders slumped, "Very well, I will be ready soon, and then we can head out," he considered her clothes for a moment, "And perhaps purchase you some new garments."

She nodded and both efficiently turned to their respective tasks.

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I dunno, I'm thinking of uploading another one of my stories on my computer… 

Anyway, hope you liked the interlude, sorry it's so short, things are gona be pretty slow because this story is all about how Arya & Eragon get together…or not, theres not much to write about that.

Tell me when Arya is getting OOC and when she turns Mary-sueish (very likely)

Still deliberating the dedication...

REVIEW!!!...or die


	3. Chapter 3: Routine

Sorry for the delay, I had exams and stuff. Since I received so many reviews (approx 14) I've given you all a longer chapter (more the fact again I didn't know where to cut it). Things are going slow, but it's all a build up.

So hope you enjoy…

Disclaimer: All hamsters used for my diabolical writing experiments belong to Chris P. He came up with the idea of Eragon, published the idea, copyrighted the idea, and now, we fanfiction writers of Alagaesia are here to steal the idea for our own purposes.

p.s: for the fight scene, Eragon's starting position, think of Anakin's Jedi lightsaber pose ANAKIN'S LIGHTSABER POSE

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Chapter Three : Routine

Soon after, they were able to head out, grabbing their coats from the rack.

Pure white, untouched snow sat on the garden outside Eragon's home, and Eragon chuckled when he saw a snowman dubbed by the children, 'Master Eragon', sitting next to his gate, crisp and dressed in a scarf and pair of mittens.

The blizzard last night had relented but the air was still chilly. Arya was shivering slightly when he looked at her. Eragon saw that her overcoat was still damp from the melted snow on it last night; he gestured for her to take hers off and settled his greatcoat over her shoulders, leaving himself still quite warmly tucked in his woolen jumper and thick tunic and stockings. He slung her coat, over his arm and sent a reprimanding look at her when she tried to shrug off his jacket. She relented, and for good measure, he wrapped his scarf around her neck as well. He did not want to be at the receiving end of a rampage by Queen Islanzadi if she knew her daughter was not being taken care of properly and was sick.

People went around their daily business and paid little attention to the newcomer, and Eragon sensed Arya was relieved by it. Stopping a few times on the road to greet random passersby, they finally got all they needed, including groceries, clothes, and some supplies.

They deposited their load at the house and left once more, this time Eragon leading the way to a rocky, high overhang a way from the city.

They watched the people, who looked like ants from their standpoint, scutter around the town, and lay back to watch the clouds floating peacefully in the clear blue skies.

Arya closed her eyes, her tense demeanor softening bit by bit around Eragon. The quiet domesticity calmed her and she found she enjoyed this way of life.

They stayed there for a long while before Eragon rose holding his hand out to help her. Arya smiled but instead of taking it, she stood up herself.

"I would like to spar with you, Eragon, to see how much you've improved." She said, dusting herself off and placing one hand on the hilt of her sword.

Eragon bowed and obligingly unsheathed his blindingly highly polished, hand and a half cross broad, metallic blue sword, blocking it with his magic while she did the same.

Moving to a clearing nearby, they took up their battle positions.

Eragon held his sword in his unique newly developed style of fighting; behind his head running diagonally to his back. Arya settled for the traditional, holding hers with both hands in front, pointing it towards him.

They circled, muscles tensed, eyes steady on the other's body.

Arya whipped her body in a circle, her sword diving in a spiral as she rotated, and with the momentum, she returned to her original position but with fluidity, swept it towards Eragon's side.

His sword whipped forward almost too fast for her eyes to follow and moved diagonally towards hers in an arc, pushing it away. Their swords met with a loud clang of metal.

With one movement, Eragon easily jumped and swinging the sword in a circle above his head, led it in a line horizontally towards her neck.

She ducked under him and barely in time, emerging on the other side, she delivered a punishing roundhouse kick to his back while he was still airborne.

It connected hard with his spine and he flew headfirst.

Eragon jammed his sword into the dirt and used it to propel him into a roll, landing safely, swiftly bringing himself to his feet.

Arya was already onto him, sword whistling down as he was standing and he blocked it over his head while crouching.

He kicked her legs out from under her and darted away as she collapsed.

The moment he raced back to her however, she was already up and waiting.

He unleashed lighting fast hits, spinning a wed of glinting steel around her body, sideways, top and driving upwards from the bottom. He patiently waited to find a hole in her defenses, sensing she was finding it harder to keep up with his pace. He redoubled the strength of his attacks, Arya's sword vibrated throughout its whole length with every hit, sending a shockwave up her arms. Every precisely laid move was well planned and executed skillfully, and pressuring her to crack.

Eragon grinned, it was time. His three deathly moves that never failed him in a duel. He went for the kill.

He swung his sword down hard onto her at speed, changing direction abruptly with a short strain on his arm muscles. She did not anticipate it, she had never seen such a fast change of direction before and desperately brought her sword up. Hers was tilted upwards, point facing towards the sky, the flat of the blade facing the two opponents, his was horizontal, hands on hilt at one side, applying pressure, the flat of the blade resting on hers but facing him. He smirked.

His hands twisted, and suddenly the blade transformed from being flat against her own blade to his flat turning like a pivot and sliding around then on the edge of her sword, the point aimed at her throat.

Even though his sword had an unobtrusive path to her throat, the flat of her blade was still facing their faces, between them, the sword vertical, since Eragon's sword point had turned to her, his wrists were under her sword.

Her mind quickly calculated, but left it as a lost cause, even if she was to slash down, his wrists were protected by tough leather gauntlets, and the flat of her blade on him would do no good anyway.

They stayed in the position for awhile, her breathing heavily, while he barely broke a sweat.

He stood back, unblocking his sword and sheathing it.

"Well played, Arya svit-kona." He murmured, offering a smile.

She did the same.

After sheathing their swords, both walked in a companiable silence down the cliff and into Carvahall again.

The sun was slowly setting when they finally reached home.

Eragon picked up some logs from a shed behind the house and Arya offered to take the coats into the house.

After she left, he propped the logs beside a stump and sharpened his axe.

Then, placing one onto the stump, he started splitting the wood for the fire that night preferring manual labour to keep himself from relying on magic and becoming lazy.

After a while, he was hot, discarding his shirt and throwing it onto a tree branch. The snow crunched underfoot.

The chore was done quickly, and Eragon wiped sweat from his face, picking up the pile of wood and turning.

There was a stick under his foot and slipping, with arms wind-milling wildly, the wood scattering, he fell onto the hard packed earth, bumping his rear end roughly.

A clear peal of laughter erupted from the front door.

Eragon looked up, Arya was sitting on the threshold, seeming to have watched him complete his task.

One hand shielded her mouth vainly trying to keep her mature appearance, while her eyes danced in uncontained mirth. Eragon was glad to see her seriousness start to disappear. He thought it was a welcome change, he had not ever seen her so happy, not even after Galbatorix was vanquished and definitely not during the war.

He stood, and then huffed in embarrassment, his cheeks tinged a bit of red.

Picking up the pieces of wood, he was surprised when a slender hand reached for the same one he was about to grab.

His hand stopped halfway, but Arya picked it up, stacking it on the mass in his arms.

"Thank you," he muttered.

She nodded and lightly strolled into the house, he following her and hooking the door closed with his foot.

Eragon dropped the wood by the fireplace and looked at his grimy attire.

"Would you like to bathe first?" He asked Arya.

She took one look at his clothes and shook her head, "You should go first."

"But ladies first," he replied.

Arya tossed him a withering look, nevertheless proceeding into the hallway, while he started up the fire.

After cleaning up and preparing dinner, both reclined comfortably onto a sofa each, eating their food in a contented silence. They talked for a while then proceeded to their separate beds.

And so, the days passed in that fashion.

* * *

A/N I couldn't describe the fight scene properly, so it may seem kinda unreal

BECKHAM BECKHAM

OMG!! I just flew in from Welly (Wellington, New Zealand) back home to Jafaland (Auckland, NZ). I watched the LA Galaxy vs the Wellington Phoenix, I couldn't believe that DAVID BECKHAM was in the same stadium as I was, all kinda dreamlike, it was so awsum, he is just so talented, although he didn't deliver his trademark curl freekick. Seriously, this was a perfect soccer game with everything included; streaker, fight, fireworks, Becks with no shirt, cool penalty by Goldenballs! I shouted my ass off, and I was practically the only one with a sign 'I love Becks' and 'Bend it Goldenballs', dunno if he saw but it looked like he was reading it and after he waved in our general direction…sorry I'm ranting but I am a really passionate soccer fan. And Becks is my hero, he's a great father, great football player, great celeb, he's modest and friendly ;-) and HOT…nooo my homework!!! Mum is so gona kill me for buying the expensive beckham shirt.

Sooooo, anyway, REVIEW REVIEW for a long chappie and update. It's a big encouragement when writers get feedback. Ps, comment on how hot and cool Beckham is (so is Ronaldinho, Cristiano Ronaldo and Ronaldo and Roberto Carlos and I'll shut up now) GO BRAZIL!!! They are sooo gona win the world cup.

REVIEW!!!!!!! Dedication pending until end of story. REVIEW!!


	4. Chapter 4: Reflection

Hi! Happy belated Xmas and New Year to all :-) I know that this chapter is horribly short, but as usual I didn't know where I could cut the story, so the next chapter I promise will be longer because it's a whole conversation angst, more angst, kind of thing, but it will explain a few things and make the story more understandable as well as share some insight into the past of the Arya of my fic (you can count the next chapter and perhaps a few more along the line as your a-month-or-so-after-xmas-prezzies) lol.

Disclaimer: All hamsters used for my diabolical writing experiments belong to Chris P. He came up with the idea of Eragon, published the idea, copyrighted the idea, and now, we fanfiction writers of Alagaesia are here to steal the idea for our own purposes.

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Chapter Four : Reflection

Days turned into weeks and weeks into months. Time flew by without care. And the two occupants of the house grew closer with each passing conversation. Arya had relaxed so she was almost unrecognizable, her face had smoothed and she wore a smile of some form daily. She was not aware of the changes, but felt herself lightening considerably.

They both had grown so used to each other, that they did not notice when they began to sit on the same couch or together on the rug before the fire. They would talk late into the evenings about a range of subjects, although two subjects were almost taboo, their past relationship and the fairth Arya had been so interested in when she arrived. Neither could remember the conflict they had in their relationship so long ago clearly anyway. All was forgiven and they started on a clean slate.

The villagers had become suspicious of them though and began good-humouredly prying when they saw Arya staying with Eragon in such a long period of time. But now, well used to the two, smiled in amusement and kindness when they saw the pair together, seeing it as norm.

Tonight was a quiet affair, they had eaten last meal rather early and situated themselves in the lounge room.

Eragon, who had been quiet and somber the whole day had fallen asleep on his couch, head leaning at an awkward angle, mouth slightly open, soft breaths flitting in and out.

Arya's eyes turned from the fire, then lit upon, as they had many times over the past months, on the portrait of Eragon and the woman. It had seemed such an insignificant matter when she first met with him once again, but as she grew more familiar and less closed with him, there was a slight longing, a strange growing curiosity to know.

_You have grown fond of him, no_? Saphira's voice sounded softly through her head, giving her a surprise, _I have been listening to some of your conversations, you two have indeed gotten close._

Arya sat in contemplation, _yes_, she said softly, _that we have._

_What do you think of my Rider now? He has changed much_. Saphira said with a hint of pride.

Saphira flew into the room through the concealed magical wall and landed daintily on the wooden floors, claws barely making a sound. She stopped by Eragon's form and nuzzled his hair affectionately, using her snout to push his head onto some support.

She passed him and lay on the rug in front of Arya, her blue jeweled eyes fixed upon the elf.

Arya's eyes left Saphira and rested on Eragon. They traced the contours of his well-built, sturdy and slender though muscular body, over his tanned forearms, onto his reasonably broad shoulders. The emerald orbs finally stopped on his face, taking in his rare peaceful expression, beautifully shaped nose, carved mouth, rather chiseled jaw, and his chocolate-gold hair, soft and reaching to his shoulders.

_He has grown. Older. He has reached the appearance that elves keep for millennium, barely changing. He is knowledgeable, wise, intelligent, considerate, thoughtful and funny. His strength, determination and courage are beyond limit but his capacity to love is unmatched. _Arya said, eyes never leaving Eragon, thinking, speaking what her mind processed and took in, _but there seems…seems to be some lingering sadness about him._

_Alas, his years have been difficult, and today is especially hard for him_. Saphira said sorrowfully, her chest rising with a deep sigh. _And he has his many faults that have not been revealed to you and most likely will not be, he may not be as perfect as he seems._

_Why is that?_ Arya asked.

_I should not reveal what he has not found comfortable enough to be made known to you._ Saphira replied carefully.

Arya nodded, _very well, but he surely must know that the longer he keeps it bottled up, it will feel worse and eat at you. Because of that, you do not see life and the blessings in front of you in clarity, losing chances to feel happy again._ She seemed to get more astringent by the word.

_You seem to speak from experience?_ Saphira said, _correct me if I am wrong, but you were exactly the same when the two of you first met. _

_And I had to live with the consequences of lingering on the past. I gave up my future_. Arya said cryptically, Saphira waited, but she did not elaborate.

_Why don't you impart to him, your advice then?_ Saphira asked.

_Then, I would seem a hypocrite._ Arya answered, speaking half the truth.

_He will open up to you eventually, Arya, be patient, nurture the flowering bud of your bond, and clear up the past. _The blue dragon said sagely.

_I do not like remembering and reliving the past._ Arya said stiffly.

_You said you lost something when you were submerged in memory years ago, is it not only getting worse, are you not losing a possible _second _chance at something? _Saphira asked fiercely.

_It was too early back then. The thing I lost in the previous era was not but a small chance, a wavering, unstable hope of something more_. Arya said defensively.

_And has it not grown? You may be sure there was nothing between you before, no chance, but now, I can sense your feelings, elf_. Saphira said quietly, emphasizing her words by blowing a small puff of warm air into Arya's face. _Think on it_. Saying so, Saphira lay down and rested her head level on the ground to Eragon's face, licking his cheek once, before drifting off into sleep.

Arya's shoulders slouched slightly, her head placed upon a palm on the armrest, gazing into the flickering fire, the flame reflection dancing in her eyes, turning her pupils an odd orange-greeny colour.

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Please read till the end of my note… 

Yes, don't tell me and don't flame me for the mary stu like part of Arya describing Eragon, I know it's amateurish to state the facts instead of 'showing' them, but I really didn't feel in the mood. Also, the last part of the conversation with Arya and Saphira is a bit confusing but after you read later on and reread the would story again later, it'll make some sense.

And…I am thinking of posting more of my unpublished works onto fanfiction, and on that note, the dedication of this story, I'm wondering if it would be better to dedicate each chapter to one reviewer instead of the whole story since I have so many people in mind.

Soooo…I am over the moon at the news that Chris P's third book is out later this year although many people have been saying the name of it is "brisingr" which I reckon is rather lame and doesn't follow the pattern…and…WOOOT there's going to be a fourth book- which will be good for us writers, since there will be more snippets and facts and evolution of characters for us to write and take apart into little analytical pieces.

WARNING—I AM NOW GOING TO BEG IN A TOTALLY ELEGANT AND NON DESPERATE WAY FOR REVIEWS FROM MY FAITHFUL READERS AND SUBSCRIBERS -ALL YOU NICE PEOPLE WHO WOULD JUST LOVE TO REVIEW MY WORK..winkwink…nudgenudge…REVIEW!!!!! (btw I am not on my knees and looking up at you with the eyes of Puss in Boots from Shrek…REVIEW!!! Wow, my authors note is nearly as long as the chapter… REVEIEWWWWW…


	5. Chapter 5: History Unburdened

Ki ora people! Sorry I haven't updated, I've been lazy, but I decided to be nice when I saw that I had the same number of reviews I had for my short chapter that were as many as the long chapter before, it was really encouraging XD

I'm not really in the mood for a long authors note so I'll spare you this time, watch out next time lol.

Keep in mind that it's been a long time since the Fourth book in this chapter, and they've stayed together for quite a long time in his house now.

Disclaimer: All guinea pigs in my evil experiment belong to Chris P. All otha puppets are created by me.

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Chapter Five : History Unburdened

A loud cry, of despair, of lost love, of misery and grief.

Arya shot up, she had fallen asleep in the main room again. It was dim, and she blinked several times to clear her eyes.

She looked wildly around, hand groping for her sword beside the couch in the half light from the embers of the non-existent fire.

Her eyes focused on the thrashing form on the couch a few paces away from her.

Eragon.

His eyes were streaming, from his throat there were choked sobs and he was clearly still asleep.

There was another heart-wrenching cry.

She sprang up, padding across the room and stood over him.

When his eyesbrows drew together in a deep frown and his lips turned down, she gently shook his shoulder, calling his name, trying to relieve him of his nightmare.

"Nia…" He was clearly so traumatized now, that his voice was numb and disbelieving.

"Eragon!" Arya shook him harder on the shoulder, trying to suppress the urge to leave him be and find out more about his past via his dreamtalk.

"Eragon!"

He seemed to snap awake, sitting up, his eyes unfocused and staring dreamily at her,

"Nia?"

His hand came up, hesitantly, and cupped the side of her face, running his hand tenderly down the length. Arya gravitated towards the warmth a little, his hand was soft, but a little rough from years of handling the sword, and was warm, comforting.

She shook her head.

Arya stepped back, his hand falling from her skin, but took his hand gently.

"No Eragon, I am not."

"What?" His brow furrowed, his eyes closed.

After a few long minutes, he opened his eyes, his composure recovered and his thoughts centered.

"Forgive me, Arya," He sighed, pushing the lingering remains of his memory out of his mind.

He tugged his hand away slowly from her grasp, "I mistook you for another."

She held fast to his retreating hand, "No matter,"

A pause.

"Does this happen often?" She asked carefully, her eyes showing understanding, her tone soft.

"No." Eragon replied shortly.

"Then why-" She was cut off.

"She died on this exact day a decade or so ago." Eragon said gruffly.

Arya was silent for a moment, "Who is this...woman?" She said, acting as if she had not heard his earlier outburst.

Eragon sat up, sighing, and ran his hand through his hair. He swung his legs off the couch and onto the floor, rested his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands.

"Nia." He said, his voice muffled, but the emotion in it clear as day. Eragon drew the back of his hand over his eyes.

"Were the two of you close?" Arya took a seat, a respectable distance away from him on the settee, directing her gaze to the carpet.

"We were married," He mumbled, "She was a wonderful, brilliant woman." He spoke as if something large was obstructing his airway.

"Yes." Arya trailed off. His words dug up the grief from the back of her mind that she thought she had gotten over and forgotten a long time ago.

Eragon continued, sounding as if he were talking to himself, "The years have gone by, the gap may be widening, but the sense of loss does not fade with the distance or time." His words were final, he clearly did not look like talking about it any further.

Arya accepted his decision, but unexpectedly, words sprang unbidden and unwanted onto her lips, "I know how you feel," her voice was so hushed that Eragon could just barely catch it.

He looked up, there were no evidence of tears on his face, but his eyes were red rimmed and glassy.

Years of forcing her memories down, of being so icy and aloof, so defensive of her past, finally caught up with Arya, catching her in the whirlwind, and spewing words out against her will.

Eragon said nothing, wondering if she would continue. She did.

She seemed to speak without thought, seeming to mull over the happening in her mind's eye. He let her speak at her own pace and waited patiently.

Arya could not help herself, could not stem the flow of words that she was about to bestow on this man.

"More than a century ago, there was an elf. We were raised together, childhood friends and close as could be. He was understanding, calm and just indescribably beautiful in a lot of ways, both inside and out," Arya closed her eyes, imagining, the scenes from her life playing out on her own free will.

She fell back against the backrest of the couch, fingers laced together on her stomach.

"Faolin." Eragon whispered, noting the well-muted but unmistakeable flutter of pain that raced for a split second across Arya's face.

"It took us many long years, but it was well worth the wait when we finally discovered and confessed our feelings for one another. It was that time, when relations between my mother and I started downhill, one thing led to another, and matters got patchy and cold." Arya fingered her hair, she felt the cold grip of the emotions she had first felt whenever she saw her mother after their disagreements.

"When the chance came to be an ambassador to the Varden, I took it eagerly without consulting my mother, but that was the last thing on my mind at that time. Needless to say, she was extremely displeased and banished me from her presence. She felt that I should stay in the relative safety of our forests and take up my responsibilies as a princess."

Eragon nodded, he could see the young Arya, filled with life and hunger for an adventure, as most beings did at that age, naiive and not yet understanding the responsibility of their actions.

Arya continued, "Her anger was no matter, I felt then. Faolin had refused to let me go without him, so I was blessed with his company for seventy years. During those years, I was also appointed the task of ferrying Saphira between the Varden and Ellesmera."

This was the only time where Eragon had seen her so exposed and human. This was probably more words she had used towards him in that narrative than all those she had spoken put together over the time they were together during the war of Galbatorix's rule.

"One night, as we made our way towards my home, to the elves, we were ambushed, before I registered what had happening, Glenwing, one of my protectors was shot down. I turned to Faolin, and was about to issue a command when an arrow struck his heart and he was no more. I had a morbid feeling before that fateful ride, but I had passed it off as nothing."

Arya took a deep, calming breath. She found telling Eragon about her life becoming easier as she progressed, the words just came to her. He was a good listener.

"Stricken, I did the only thing that registered. I ran. From the shade that chased me and the Varden's only hope, the egg. When he cornered me, I ran out of options and transported it, to my understanding, it went awry and was brought to you, by the fates or some other force. I was captured and taken to Gilead. The torturing was excruciating but I didn't feel anything. I was despairing and wanted no more than to die, the bright light of my life had gone and I was left in darkness. Never in my dreams had I anticipated it happening, and it hurt all the more."

Eragon's head bowed again. He knew how that felt.

"I was brought out of the darkness by you Eragon, a few months later, and that is when our story begins."

Arya felt suddenly, with the last word, as if a tremendous weight had been taken off her back, one that she had not known or felt she had still carried.

Turning away, she discreetly wiped a stray tear off her face.

With a abrupt dawning, a sense of peace came over her, her heartbeat slowed, her breathing calm with the last word she spoke.

Her eyes were glistening. She knew there was now a new life, one that she could not have enjoyed had she still been keeping her secrets.

She would not be burdened by the memory of her former lover, she thought firmly, for the first time in a long while knowing exactly what she had to do.

Faolin would be kept in her mind, but as a happy memory, not the vision of his death. He would have wanted that for her, and in Eragon's little house, nearly a hundred and forty years later after the incident, she came to peace with herself and rejoiced.

Arya nearly laughed. What she had revealed was something she hadn't even told her mother, only one or two select people, now three knew of her story. Her thoughts were ludicrous now- she had told someone who had pursued her in the past had caused her pain because of his persistence. Someone she had not seen in decades and had only spent a few months with now.

She looked to her right. Eragon seemed placated and thoughtful with her words. He still did not seem like he wanted to retell his own story though. She let him be, knowing that when he was ready, she would be there.

The said man-elf was not speaking. He submitted Arya's story to his memory and pondered his own inexperience years ago.

He spoke up, "Princess Arya, please forgive me and my rash, unthoughtful actions of the past. I didn't realize that by my pursuing you was hurtful and inconsiderate. I should have been more cautious and tactful. I was but a young farm boy infatuated with you, I knew no reason and no good schooling."

Eragon stood and bowed deeply, meaning every word.

Arya immediately stood, she placed a hand lightly on his shoulder, pulling him up to his full height once again.

"Eragon, there is nothing to be forgiven," She put a hand up to stop his protests.

"Truly, you meant no harm even if your actions could have been less audacious." She grinned weakly. "They were a distraction and a means of getting over the loss of my mate. They did not do as much harm as you would think." She added mysteriously.

Eragon raised an eyebrow but seemed contented that his younger behaviour concerning her was absolved.

Arya moved to the hallway and Eragon followed. They climbed the stairs without sound, going to their respective rooms.

Arya paused, one hand on the door frame, there was an awkward silence, something that was expected considering the deep atmosphere and information revealed just before.

She turned, "Thank you for this enlightening tonight, you have helped me more than you know, it is good to talk things over occasionally," She said quietly, dropping a hint. "Good night. Eragon."

She didn't wait for a reply and retreated to her room, closing the door.

"And good night to you, Arya svit-kona," Eragon murmured before entering his own sanctuary.

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And so this chapter ends! I know it is pretty hardcore, angsty stuff, but it really needed to be written so reviews would be appreciated. This is a reward fic, since my updates haven't been regular and the last one was very short. Things are going slow, but it is to be expected, since most of it is how Eragon and Arya MIGHT get together, so there has to be lots of soul searching and resolve of history before healing can begin.

The more the reviews, the stronger my procrastinating-prone behaviour will be ignored!!

I am wondering, maybe if I should give you guys my completed oneshots of EragonXArya...maybe if I get hopefully, if you guys are lenient and nice, around 15 reviews, I will post the fics. It's not that hard...did you know, my other story, four chapters, same as this, has 80 something reviews and this has 52? Big difference, if you are reviewing, I will update "Where the Heart Is", I have it written anyway..


	6. Chapter 6: Run of Memories

A big shout out and thankyou to those who reviewed my last chapter, in total 14 reviews out of the fifteen I begged for which is not bad at all, and I know that I will probably get fifteen for that chapter later. I just had to post, I couldn't be bothered to wait for the last review, that and I was so bored and wanted to share my story.

I will spare you from one of my mandatory long A/Ns this time, count yourself lucky ;-)

I'm really sorry, but please prepare yourself for more angst, it couldn't be helped no matter how much I wanted to scrap it, it's an important part of this fic. You knew that when you first signed up to read this story lol.

Yes, Arya may seem OOC, but please refer to my earlier explanation to her actions further back in the story..

Disclaimer: All hamsters used for my diabolical writing experiments belong to Chris P. He came up with the idea of Eragon, published the idea, copyrighted the idea, and now, we fanfiction writers of Alagaesia are here to steal the idea for our own twisted purposes.

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Chapter Six- Run of Memories

It was early in the morning when Arya arose, the birds were quiet and the nocturnal cricket chirps were slowly dwindling away. Wide awake almost immediately, she swung out of the bed, though she would never admit to herself- with slight reluctance to leave the warm cocoon of blankets.

Changing into a loose tree-green tunic and soft leather boots, she completed her morning rituals and soundlessly left her room, treading softly down the stairs, trailing her hand along the smooth banister as she descended and padding into the kitchen, where a cup of steaming hot tea was awaiting her on the table.

She smiled; Eragon must have made an extra and left it for her thoughtfully when he sensed her arrival into wakefulness.

She cocked her head, what was he doing up so early?

Arya looked around, and then spotted Eragon's light, flexible running boots missing from the threshold where it usually had permanent residence.

Nursing her hot cup in both hands, she blew on it lightly, watching the steam rise from the depths of the dark oak liquid and brush her nose, leaving behind a hint of moisture.

She took a sip absently, and cringed when the scalding hot substance bit her tongue with it's heat.

Her eyes scanned the wooden kitchen, passing over the glinting copper pots and pans hung up over the stove, Eragon's own half finished cup of cold tea sitting lonely on the counter, casting a shadow onto the battered but sturdy rock.

Continuing on her way- savouring the rich carpet under her clad feet of the main room- made her way to the front entrance.

The elven princess faced the timber of the entrance door, and her hand came away from her body to unlatch the lock gently, feeling the smooth, frigid metal underneath her fingertips. She watched as the door swung on it's oiled hinges without a sound. A wedge of the pale morning sunrays was revealed through the open gap, and it penetrated the darkness of the hallway.

She moved into the light, peering around the edge. Eragon could be seen a couple meters away with his back to the house. He was dressed in a thin, loose, white cotton shirt and brown breeches, his boots pulled snugly to a few inches under the knee where the breeches ended. He was bent over in his rimagar exercises, attempting to stretch and warm his stiff muscles as the cold outside air attacked his skin.

She padded down the steps lightly and stopped a few meters behind him, still sipping gingerly at her tea.

When he did not turn around, she assumed he was so fixated on his exercises that he was not aware of her presence. She spoke up casually in a clear voice, "Up a little early, are you not, master Shadeslayer?"

He spluttered, letting out a small cry of surprise and falling over from his precarious balancing pose onto the side of his head.

He lay flat in the dirt, and after a moment of shock, placed an arm over his eyes. When he registered his interruption and sensed whose presence it was that was disturbing him, he groaned.

"Do you enjoy constantly doing that, Lady Drottingnu?"

"Doing what?" She asked innocently, smiling and in high spirits. She felt closer than ever to Eragon ever since she had shared her thoughts with him, that and his current position were amusing.

"You know what!" He exhaled noisily, then, "What are you doing here?"

"I am living with you, Eragon, if you have already forgotten. I've been living here for the last few months. Where have you been hiding during that time?" She asked playfully.

"You seem ridiculously cheerful this morn, Lady Drottingnu. Let me rephrase, what are you doing out here?" Eragon asked, feeling a little cantankerous.

"That should be _my_ question." She gracefully folded her legs under herself and sat lightly on the grass, this morning only lightly wet by the dew; Carvahall was slowly but surely easing into the summer season. She cocked her head at him, and reached out to flick a lock that had fallen over his forehead playfully away with a pale finger.

"I was about to set off for a run through the spine." He answered, sitting up and facing her with his legs crossed as well.

"Well then," she said slowly, "May I come?"

He looked taken aback but after a moment responded with an affirmative, "Very well, I shall wait for you here."

She nodded and lifted herself lithely, jogging into the house.

A few minutes later she reappeared in a silk tunic with her breeches and brown boots worn the same way as Eragon minus her morning brew. Her long raven hair was braided tightly and tucked into the back of her tunic comfortably to avoid it whipping into her face while she ran.

"I am ready," She declared with a bright smile, "lead the way."

He stood, straightening his shoulders and posture. Looking to the left, he motioned vaguely to the direction of their run, and they set off.

The freedom, the rapture Eragon felt running ran through his head. The reckless abandon, his limbs slowly unfolding and stretching out, taking steady and long, springy strides: the feelings were all very sharp in his mind. He had not done this in a long while. His head cleared slowly and his somber mood drained out slowly.

Arya took a sideway glance at him, seeing Eragon's joyful face and features relaxed, her face set into a smile also and she averted her gaze to her green surroundings.

They ran for hours, leaping over fallen mossy logs, ducking under overhanging branches and jumping from tree to tree. Their feet stepped lightly over the ground, almost a blur and they traveled fast, muscles contracting only slightly with little effort.

They finally ceased when they realized just how far they had gone.

Eragon bounded into a large tree, from branch to branch, higher and higher, arms spread for balance.

Arya watched him blankly, then followed his steps, alighting on each branch, each still quivering slightly from Eragon's weight.

They were a dizzying distance from the ground, but a wonderful view was spread out before them.

The couple sat on the same branch near the tree trunk, no conversation exchanged between them as they simply enjoyed each other's company.

A gentle breeze washed over them, and they watched as the sun slowly bathed the rest of the shadowy land in its warming, golden glow, flowers opened and life awakened once again.

Arya's hand suddenly brushed his, whether by accident or not, Eragon stiffened but did not pull it away, and both kept their eyes firmly on the horizon.

Her touch seemed to spark something within him, and he spoke, quietly, his voice gaining volume slowly.

"Her name," his eyes still glued over the trees, she turned her head quickly to glance at him then back to her original position, "was Nia."

She nodded, even though he made no indication that he had seen.

"We met, shortly after the last war, when I journeyed to the Varden for some summit meetings with Alagaesia's leaders for the reformation plan. She was a healer for the people, a kind woman. We accidentally met, and almost immediately, we could sense something there."

Eragon sighed, a slight smile playing at his lips, "I dismissed that coincidence, as foolish as I was in those days, but several weeks later, we met again, this time, I took it as a sign of fate and asked her to dinner."

Eragon paused, and Arya waited patiently. He seemed to speak with less unease when he was not interrupted, letting his thoughts run in one unending flow.

He looked down, picking a leaf off the small twig next to him and fiddling with it, "We were inseparable after that night, we went everywhere together, I helped her heal her patients and she was always waiting uncomplainingly outside for me when I had important meetings. Soon after, I had to return to Vroengard, she was a strong woman, like you, and very hard to read, but after spending so much time with her, I saw what she wanted and together we made the trip back to my home."

He smiled slightly again and shifted his weight, resting his back against the trunk of the tree, bringing his knees up slightly. His face was still turned to the now fully arisen sun, they could hear the animals of the forest chattering and scurrying about doing their daily activities.

"We started sharing thoughts and dreams, but what brought us together was when we told each other of our pasts. She was very understanding and we developed a deep bond, we could understand each other without speaking after a while.

"Naturally, she had to return to her people, the Varden, and I, being in denial about my feelings that I knew I harboured for a long time, let her go. When she was finally gone, and I was alone, I realized how much she mattered to me. Riding upon Saphira, I chased after her, she was still on the ocean, traveling toward Terim. In my haste, I fell into the sea close to the boat."

Eragon chuckled, with a small measure of bitterness in his voice, at the memory.

"Before Saphira could do anything, Nia, who I discovered later was walking along the deck, hoping for my pursuing her, somehow saved me. I was suffering from hypothermia and blue in the lips, but I managed to tell her how I felt. She was crying when she responded in the same way. She made a great sacrifice when she decided to return to the Riders with me and after a year or so, we were joined in the human way." His eyes were bright with remembrance when he recounted this part of his past, as if he could see the happening inside his head.

He didn't speak for a long moment.

When Eragon spoke again, his voice was filled with pain and some kind of self-disgust, "When she died, it was because of an illness she had caught from a very sick traveler we came across while we were returning to the Varden again that she tried to heal."

He shook his head.

"Normally, she would have recovered to her full health, but her body was weak at the time. We tried everything to help her. At that time, I was the best healer there was, I couldn't do anything, no medicines or methods would work, no matter how desperately I tried to save her failing strength."

The mutilated flower that Eragon had been turning over and over in his fingers had been thoroughly crushed, and he let the resulting ball of brownish pink slip from his hand, watching as it twirled on it's way down through branches and leaves to the forest floor.

"She lived for another week and passed away peacefully with me by her side. She was buried...at a special place to the both of us. I was inconsolable during the next year or so, but I had a duty I still had to do for her, and so life went on."

He stopped, tears were making tracks down his face, and his voice wavered. Eragon lowered his face, ashamed of shedding his tears in front of Arya.

Said woman leaned over and put a comforting hand on his knee, the only place she could reach, "It was not your fault, Eragon."

He looked at her, "Yes, it was," he said desolately, "I should have known what to do, I should have cured her!"

Arya's eyebrows furrowed and she spoke in a firm voice, "there was nothing that you hadn't done that you _could_ do, Eragon. You tried your best. Stop blaming yourself and be glad at the fact that she's in a better place and remember the **good** times you two had together."

Eragon simply shrugged, his expression rebellious and disbelieving.

Arya changed tact, tentatively going on, "Why did you say she was weak and her body was not as strong as normal?"

Eragon's red rimmed eyes were closed shut, "she had just…"

* * *

"We started sharing thoughts and dreams, but what brought us together was when we told each other of our pasts." Ironic, anyone?

"Run of Memories" The title for this chapter, 'run' meaning rerun/reflection etc.

You know, I have no idea why Inevitable Fate has so many reviews, almost 60 for two chapters, if I may be honest, I don't actually think that story is very good. I think this one or my new one, 'My Twisted Fairytale' is better, not because of the plot, but because of the imagery and attention to descriptions in some parts of the fics, I just take more time to express the emotion and atmosphere.

WELL, we have come to the part where you all click the red cross button at the top right hand corner of the screen, and yes I can see you, you just attempted to look where I had indicated, you lazy readers!

The more reviews, the faster and more content I will update, please around the same number as last time??

Be moved and extremely emotional from my speech and tearfully click on the review button!! REVIEWREVIEW!!

'The more the merrier' as they say!

It's true.


	7. Chapter 7: My Legacy

Hi! Haven't seen you all for some time :D So, I can't be bothered writing a long AN (usually I do it so I can rant lol, which is something I'm really good at) so I'll just make it brief. I was going to post this in the morning so that it'd stay in the new chapter list longer, but ah well, I have enough on my alerts list to make up enough reviewers hehe.

Okay the title kind of just gives it all away haha, but congrats to …… for managing to guess the answer to the cliffhanger, although it does seem obvious to me now.

BTW, I am SUCH a fandom whore, I'll admit that's why I haven't been posting much and cuz I've been procrastinating. Visit Fullmetal Alchemist; it's really worthwhile, really cool fics (which have almost perfect spelling and punctuation and everything staring pointedly at Eragon fandom which made me fall in love with it. Also Alex Rider, Kim Possible, Underworld, Harry Potter.

Disclaimer: All hamsters used for my diabolical writing experiments belong to Chris P. He came up with the idea of Eragon, published the idea, copyrighted the idea, and now, we fanfiction writers of Alagaesia are here to steal the idea for our own twisted purposes.

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Chapter Seven : My Legacy

_Eragon simply shrugged, looking like he didn't believe her._

_Arya changed tact, "Why did you say she was weak and her body was not as strong as normal?"_

_Eragon's eyes squeezed shut, "she had just…"_

--

"Yes?"

"She had just given birth to our first child." He said quietly, his head slowly tilted up tentatively to see her reaction.

Arya sat completely still, a look resembling very much alike shock flashed across her face before quickly rearranging into a expression of understanding. Eragon was not fooled so easily, her eyes were still unnaturally wide and there was a small, almost unnoticable crease above her brow.

He took a deep breath and plunged on.

"His name…his name was Thane." Eragon looked like he was in the process of asphyxiating, taking shallow breaths, and pressed his words out with difficulty. It seemed to Arya like he was forcing himself to tell her about him. His love for the boy was clear in his eyes.

"That is a very strong name." Arya commented, her heart giving a wrench when she thought about herself and Faolin. The thought of a child had only briefly crossed their minds. They had naively assumed there would be still so much time for such things after their duties. How wrong she - they - had been.

"He was a delightful little boy. He gave Nia and I _such_ great happiness in times of anxiety and strain, when our duties were overwhelming, kind of like," he paused, thinking, "Like a breath of pure, fresh air from the Beors."

Just as he said that, it seemed as if the forest was listening also, for a cool gust of icy air blew into their faces.

"Our pride and joy. We were very proud of him." Eragon said. He beamed for a moment, his straight white teeth flashing in the dappled green and golden light.

"Where is he now?" Arya asked tentatively. She quickly regretted her words afterward, mentally berating herself for her lack of tact.

Eragon's smile wiped off abruptly, and his head dropped onto his chest again as it had when he was recounting his life with Nia. His fingers fiddled with the bark on the wood near his leg, and he shifted: the trunk was extremely unforgiving, and his back was growing stiff.

"He is passed." He said forlornly.

She waited.

"He had grown up to be a worthy young man, even though he had lost his mother at an early age. He was built nicely, good looks-or so from the reaction of females in the village, blond with amber-brown eyes, with a gentle and caring character, girls swarmed around him, he was always courteous to them and everyone around him." Eragon laughed, "Perhaps I am overexaggerating; he had his faults, like everyone else, but his charm and mischievousness just made me forget about those."

Although it did not seem right in the situation, Arya allowed her to let out a soft genuine laugh at his words.

"He was defending a girl from our village one day, maybe," Eragon grinned, "maybe the one that he was shy upon, I never really managed to wrestle the truth from him, from a burly male fellow who seemed intent on pursuing her despite her resistance and handled her roughly."

Arya could not imagine the serious Eragon trying to pry with such comedy into his son's life, and the Eragon he described was evidently different from this one in the present.

"Thane did not tolerate this behaviour and he stepped in. He had inherited my swordsmanship, and also his mother's magical healing skills. He thought he had everything under control, but what he didn't see was the other man that sneaked up behind he and the girl." He sighed, shaking his head, "It had been one of lessons I had been pressing on him, to always to aware of our surroundings, even though he had, it wasn't enough."

His companion nodded, "That takes time and experience, I sense presences around you while in battle or distraction. It was one that I learned the hard way, as did you as I remember from our sparring."

Eragon agreed quietly.

"The girl didn't realize either, until the intruder swept past her and plunged his knife into Thane's back. It was a fatal wound and he bled terribly. He told me it didn't hurt when I got to him after disposing of both other men in my anger and despair. I spent several agonizing minutes with him before he eased into the void to join his mother. He was only seventeen." Eragon wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

"I buried him next to his mother."

"I am sorry," Arya said compassionately, "I really am."

Eragon shook his head and looked away. "Don't be."

"You will see them one day again, Eragon." Arya said.

He nodded, but felt better after he revealed his story. It felt like he was not only one who felt their deaths, it was as if Arya also seemed to care for him and for his Nia and Thane.

Almost as an afterthought he added for himself, he said, "Nia…she was just so… she was a faithful, loyal companion and lover."

Arya looked at her hands, "As was Faolin to me."

Just as she felt shameful tears blurring the side of her vision, she was engulfed in a comfortable, reassuring warmth. Her head turned, and she almost fell off the branch in surprise when she came nose to nose with Eragon, who was suddenly sitting _very_ close to her. His arms encircled her waist hesitantly and the tears overwhelmed her even more.

His grip tightened even more so and she felt his body quivering against hers.

She looked at him again, he was crying unashamedly. Her heart unconsciously warmed at the sight, at the realization that he understood her, felt what she was feeling.

The tears fell in a steady stream and slowly, they came closer and closer, until her forehead was pressed against his hard chest and his was resting atop her head. She gripped his shirt almost savagely as both let loose the long suppressed emotions in an explosion of feeling. They wept for hours, crying and sobbing, clutching each other for dear life.

--

They returned to Carvahall just as the sun set fully, walking in the dark amber shadows of the village. The couple had spent the remainder of the day getting to know each other more deeply, since what they had just confessed was what had kept them apart from the beings around them.

Both had been wary of making friends and letting people get too close, thinking that they would not understand their grief and by them getting close would mean that they had to explain and reveal, reliving the darkness and their losses; Faolin, Nia, Thane, that kept their demeanor detached and somber day to day.

When they reached the front door in a comfortable silence between them, they were surprised to see Sean, Roran's son, waiting on the front step for them, peering through the coloured glass on the door to see if anybody were present at their home.

"Good evening." Eragon said, stopping a few paces from him.

Sean jumped, and turned quickly. When he saw Eragon, he managed a short bow, "Master Eragon."

He inclined a head towards Arya, "Lady."

"How many times have I asked you to call me Eragon, Sean?" Eragon said, a little amused and exasperated.

Sean smiled cheekily, "Habits, manners and past lessons die hard and are hard to unlearn, _uncle_ Eragon… father sent me to remind you that tonight there is a village feast, the whole town is gathering. He said that you would most likely forget."

Eragon scowled, Roran knew him too well, no surprise after so many years as brothers.

"Very well, we will be there. Thank you, Sean." He said.

Sean bowed once more with a grin and left to complete his other errands.

Eragon turned to Arya, after watching him depart, "Do you wish to go?"

She nodded, "Of course." She found the communal dinners very friendly and welcoming, and had been to a few ever since she arrived at Carvahall.

"I will meet you down here shortly then." Eragon said, and both of them hurried upstairs to change and refresh.

Not for the first time, as he strode out of the room, he noted that Arya had finished and made an appearance at the same time as him, as she appeared by his side and they walked to the door together.

The air was crisp, and as they inhaled, frozen icicles of the dark evening air attacked their lungs.

Eragon looked up and chuckled in spite of himself; Carvahall had built a merry, cackling and very hungry fire at their meeting point that could be seen climbing higher and higher over the houses that were a safe distance away from it, sending a familiar golden yellow sheen of light over the rooftops.

It didn't take long to arrive at the center of the village where most had already arrived; any stranger or fool could find it even without the conspicuous signal of grey smoke, the large plume swirling in the dark navy of the sky, creating mysterious shapes that transfixed his attention for some time, seeing the noise and commotion the revellers were making.

The two were greeted with gusto, enthusiasm and warm embracing; Eragon's back was pounded hard by the other men, people smiling at Arya as if she had grown up with them.

Eragon greeted Katrina, Roran, their family, and young children that rushed to him. He picked them up easily, one in each arm, laughing, recieving and giving tight embraces.

The long tables in the around middle of the clearing was laden with rich food, steaming and freshly baked, poached, boiled, cooked and roasted.

Eragon set their deftly made but delectable, even by his standards, contribution on the edge of the table, where it balanced precariously.

When everybody was in attendance, they all took seats and dug into the food with exclamations, satisfied grunts and compliments on the cooking. Arya sat next to Eragon, both at the middle of the table and he watched her eat daintily for a moment before choosing his own non meats and starting his own dinner. They engaged in several conversations throughout the courses, nobody was left out, _could not_ be, as even the quietest introverts were swept up the liveliness and energy of this common coming together.

Very soon all were full, their stomachs contented.

After the dinner, pairs and groups retired on mats of hay, loosed dirt covered ground, cosy heaps of dry grass and straw bundles in a loose circle around the bonfire; some leaning on others, sitting, lying on stomachs, lovers in close proximity, young children fast asleep, Eragon smiled fondly as he watched Sean's woman seat herself between his legs, resting against his chest.

There was endless entertainment long into the night, people got up to perform singing, dancing, stories and roasted marshmallows passed all round, altogether with the shared wineskin.

As it grew further towards midnight, he saw numerous parents taking their children, most of them younglings, babies and toddlers home, gently cradling their heads against their fathers shoulders or nestled contentedly, still sunk in a unconscious state of sleep, against their mother's bosoms, some of the adults returning to the still crowded ring of villagers. He smiled as he saw some elderly asleep in the pleasant warmth of the still strong fire, some older children using each other as pillows as they slumbered on amidst the talking. Eragon snorted when his elven hearing sensed one of the more amorous couples making love a few meters away, isolated and hidden in the forest, unheard because of the relative loudness of the main group, and soon he picked up a few more pairs just huddled together, scattered around the outer ring of the area.

Eragon swayed, satisfyingly warm, his mind lightheaded from all his laughter throughout the night, his stomach aching with every chortle, his mouth was dry with the taste of many a kind of alcohol: gin, rum, and his ongoing favourite, Morn's special brew from his older stock, matured in his fine wooden barrels.

He was pleased to see even Arya loosened, consuming moderate amounts of the booze, joining in the laughter and listening to the stories. The homely feeling of the comany seemed to have surrounded her also, for her eyes glinted an emerald-amber shade and as she laughed, her teeth flashed brightly.

It was deeply late in the night, and very early morning, when the congregation of adults and few children dwindled, and the remaining villagers headed for their homes after having bade everyone farewell.

Arya and Eragon stumbled, somehow still with some grace and dignity, into their abode.

Mumbling their goodnights, they collapsed, fully exhausted, into bed.

* * *

Well- thank God that we've finished with all the major angsty parts! The story will roll on more smoothly and we'll will actually be getting somewhere!! Thanks for bearing with me!

And all praise the wonders of acupuncture, it makes you really high from the nerves which in turn makes me hyper which in turn makes me bother to write which in turn gives all of you your next chappie!! No matter how much everyone says it doesn't hurt, it did somewhat for mine (sprained my ankle at the end of last year and although it doesn't hurt that much, it's like weak and after soccer hurts slightly), for a few minutes, and man let me tell you how bizarre it is seeing needles sticking into your leg and ankle randomly. The asian lady was like "Do you need any more for your….blah blah" and I was like, hastily (and desperately), "NO no, it's fine, I have enough holes in me already" lol, kind of ironic since I'm asian-turned-kiwi, well anyway, I don't even know why I'm telling you this, so skip this paragraph unless you want to hear about my shopping spree today!

Since I have been soooo interesting (I should seriously write a blog since I'm so cynical at times)….REVIEWWWWWW.

Let me make this clear lol: I . AM . NOT . ABOVE . BEGGING . But you loyal readers wouldn't make me do that though :-)

Even if this chappie was boring, please review so that I can post the next chapter, I get tired of waiting. BTW, the last response to chapter six was really encouraging, thanks to all 18 reviewers!!

REVIEW! REVIEW!


	8. Chapter 8: Blessing of A Child

Hey :) So, I thought it wouldn't really be fair if I promised to update when I got enough reviews and not keep my word so here you are! Thanks to all reviewers again especially those who've followed this fic from the beginning and faithfully reviewed each chapter. I got an amazing 25 reviews for my last chapter which I'm really happy about.

From now on I'll hopefully answer all the reviews that have questions etc so send all your queries of the chapter (or unanswered questions from before) or whatever. Don't wait though, I have homework that I need to persuade my procrastinating ass to start doing, especially since I failed my bio and maths lol.

Since I've left you all hanging for so long, I've given you an extra long chapter, that and I couldn't be bothered splitting it up (I was gonna give you half of this chapter originally)...be assured in the near future chapters won't be this length...probably shorter, but it depends on the length of the scenes.

Disclaimer: If I told you that I owned the Eragon franchise, you would die of laughter…I would too.

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Chapter Eight : Blessing of A Child

Arya woke the next morning, only a lingering weariness at her limbs after the late hour of her slumber the night before.

Eragon was already sitting in the kitchen poring over a long piece of yellowed parchment, one hand keeping it from curling and the other holding a cup frozen before his lips. He looked up from his scroll when he heard her footsteps.

"Good morn, good sleep?" He asked, blinking hard to get her fuzzy image clear. It seemed to be taking a large effort to keep his eyelids open. Arya hid a small fond smile behind a yawn.

"Yes, thank you. And yourself?" She asked, leaning on the back of a chair on her forearms at the other end of the table.

"Very alive, more so than before." Eragon smiled, "I feel so clear headed, and ready for the new days ahead." His eyes twinkled, his whole demeanor was merrier than she had seen since the fall of Galbatorix. He seemed to be more inclined to talking now.

Arya pushed herself off, heading for the area behind him and rummaged around in the cupboard; now more familiar to her than her own rarely used one in Ellesmera. Putting together her own drink, she sat down opposite him again.

"I've been thinking," Eragon started slowly, "That it is nigh time to leave for Vroengard, I will be needed after this long break I had been having. We have spent more than enough time here, it is time to get productive again: Alagaesia seems not to be able to keep herself out of trouble. Besides-" He added, "-the reason why I left in the first place, and my troubled mind, has been resolved, all credit given to you."

Arya felt slightly downhearted; she would not get any quiet days with Eragon for a long while, after they arrived at the Rider stronghold. Her time in Carvahall had been precious and she kept them close to her heart.

"When shall we leave?" She asked, her reflection looking back at her from the surface of the amber liquid in her cup.

"Soon- one of the next few days." He said.

"_So_ soon?" She asked, an eyebrow lifting.

"Unless you want to stay for longer?" Eragon said.

She shook her head, "No no, I was just surprised; I have enjoyed my stay here."

He agreed readily.

The next few days passed by in a blur, and Arya found herself running to keep up with the pace, desperately grabbing hold onto any memories of those days and storing them deeply in her mind.

To her surprise, memories of Faolin seemed to cause no more pain for her, she could mention his name without flinching. All but the most important of Arya's memories of him were slowly turning foggy and hazy, as she looked forward to each day in Carvahall.

Soon they were all packed, the house cleaned thoroughly, the cooler and cupboards cleared of all food, sheets pulled over tables, chairs, sofas, desks, beds and other furniture, fireplace grate cleared, beds stripped of sheets, water let out of the metal water tank to prevent mould, rust and degenerating, so it could be filled with clean water next time. The day before, they had already bid the villagers goodbye, and Roran was especially saddened, his whole family had come to say their farewells.

Eragon locked the door with his magic and gave a last check to their possessions: Arya had accumulated quite a bunch of collections and belongings, and the packs were tied and strapped with the bundles onto Saphira and into her saddle pockets.

Eragon and Arya took one last look at the house before locking the door and mounting Saphira.

…and flew into the clear blue sky in a rush of biting cold wind.

It was no surprise to the people of Teirm that a dragon would make an appearance; they were always dropping in, whether returning to or setting out from Vroengard. But it _was_ a surprise when they found out that this dragon and rider were not one of the usual, this was **the** Lord Shadeslayer and his dragon, Saphira.

The group of travelers were efficiently received and smoothly directed to their chambers. Arya found herself housed in the richer district of Teirm, in the specially built dwelling for riders, she only allowed there no doubt because she was traveling with Eragon.

For the morning, Saphira rested in the courtyard of the castle while Eragon and Arya each retreated to their lavish chambers.

Soon the afternoon came and found Eragon with Saphira, both discussing what seemed quite important. He sat astride her back and was about to take off when Arya's voice sounded from the shadows behind the pillars.

"Where are you two going?" She asked. He could see the frown on her forehead as she stepped out into the light.

Eragon shifted uncomfortably, "we were going…to see the city better."

Arya stood with a hand upon one hip, clearly disbelieving.

Saphira finally broke, _we were going to review the state of the poor district of the city. We were troubled by the dilapidated mess it was last time we were here. We can write a report and message it to Queen Nasuada for consideration. _

_There's no reason why then, Eragon didn't tell me, _Arya said to Saphira, watching Eragon sharply.

He didn't want to tell you because even as a boy, though he was not poor, he was not wealthy either. This situation strikes close to the heart, and he doesn't want to lower himself in your eyes by making you -or anyone else for that matter- remember he was but a simple farm boy.

Arya gave a soft noise of understanding. _It is nothing to be ashamed of, if having that background made and shaped you into the man you are now, I am glad you were brought up as you were_, she said to both Eragon and Saphira. Then out loud she asked, "May I come?"

Saphira waited for Eragon to respond. "Of course," He said, looked behind him, moved further forward on the saddle, and leaning so far off the saddle Saphira was afraid for a moment that he would fall, offered Arya a hand to pull her up behind him.

The elf approached them and graciously took the appendage proffered. In one easy heave, Eragon pulled her up clear off the ground, and quickly planting her foot on the hard scales of the dragon's side when gravity started to pull her again, she vaulted the rest of the way.

_Lets's go_. Eragon said to Saphira once Arya had settled herself. She took off immediately, jolting the elf who had not yet strapped herself in, Eragon laughed as she grabbed his waist tightly, looking furtively at the distant ground. He reached back, and deftly tied and tightened the rings of toughened leather around her calves and another thick, single strap around her thighs snugly.

The residents of Teirm could barely contain their excitement as they tumbled over each other in order to follow the mighty dragon dancing through the sky. They pointed, shouted and waved excitedly, cheering while Saphira entertained them with aerobatics.

Saphira touched down amongst the filthy run down homes within minutes, her wings sending up a whirlwind of choking dust. The beggars and wounded who lined the streets shrunk away in fear from them.

Eragon leapt off gracefully, while Arya watched him intently.

_Nothing has changed,_ He thought with dismay as he looked around.

As his gaze moved from poor peasant to ragged children, a dusty brown hooded figure slumped against a wall caught his attention.

A lump rose in his throat. That graying hair, wiry, but elegant in it's colour that poked from the tattered cloak and the way it framed the wise face that it covered…how it looked and reminded him of old Marian's. Her kind expression that had comforted him over much of his younger years…how it had comforted his inconsolable soul when she had lain on her deathbed, how it had looked just before she had passed, when she told him of the heritage she knew of him. That she wasn't his birth mother…

His feet moved him subconsciously towards the elderly old lady. His hands spread wide open, showing he was unarmed as she flinched.

His eyes were still dazed and full of thoughts of the past as he crouched by her, laying a hand on her bony shoulder that jutted out under paper-like skin.

"Mor'ranr." He murmured in an undertone. She did not understand the ancient language, but the magic flowed from his words and calmed her.

"I am Eragon Shadeslayer. Please do not be afraid." He said to her. _Marian_.

The old woman visibly jumped when she heard his name, and rushed to pay him the proper respect.

Eragon waved it off, motioning for her to sit down again.

"What have you got there?" He asked, his gaze not on her face any longer.

She gingerly opened her arms to show him the bundle of dirty rags wrapped around a squirming object hidden in the folds.

"May I?" He asked.

The woman nodded, though still with a little reluctance.

He gently pulled back the barely recognizable linen to reveal a malnourished, grubby little newborn.

Its arms waved in the air and adorable liquid brown eyes opened to gaze at Eragon wisely.

"'er name is Elenir," said the woman timidly, "her parents 'ave jus died from starvation not two days ago."

Eragon felt anger boil up in him, for the injustice that was Alagaesia. _This child had no choice but to be born into poverty._

Waves of sympathy radiated from Saphira who had been listening to their conversation through his mind.

"That is a pretty name." He said, smoothing the baby's forehead with two fingers.

"Please, Lord Shadeslayer, show 'er some compassion an' bless 'er, bless her." The woman pleaded.

Eragon hesitated, paralyzed, remembering how because of his foolishness, cursed an innocent child that was Elva, years ago.

_You are competent now, Eragon._ Saphira said warmly.

Eragon raised his hand above the infant's head and closing his eyes, chanted the ancient blessing. The words of power flowed from his mouth and an aura of authority dripped from each word.

The woman looked awed at his display, as did Arya. Saphira looked on silently, with a smug smile at dragonish jowls.

A blue light gleamed from his gedwey insignia and the blue light cast over the youngling.

Finally it cut off, and Eragon was surprised to feel a light sheen of perspiration lining his skin.

"Than' you, thank you! Lord, you have done a won'erful thing, may al the gods look upon you'n favor." The elderly said sincerely, tears smudged down her lined face.

"It was nothing but what is due." Eragon pressed a couple of gold coins into her hand and laid a gentle kiss on Elenir's cheek.

He stood, his knees stiff, and backed away respectfully. Arya had dismounted, her eyes were bright as she looked on at Eragon.

As he came close, her hand touched his shoulder blade briefly and a warm feeling spread slowly through his body.

"You have changed, truly, Eragon-vor." She said, a smile on her lips.

He shook his head. "It is nothing compared to how many lives I have ruined and killed, the devastation I have brought. This is just a small thing to make up for the atrocious deeds our kind have committed."

She raised an eyebrow inquiringly, "Our kind?"

He chuckled, "Meaning, all who fought against the empire, who killed innocent men under Galbatorix's control. What did you think I meant?"

She shrugged, "Elves."

"Nay, I belong not to your culture, although I may look a lot like an elf, I will always be a human at heart. Not to say that I would be insulted if I were accepted as one of your kin, it would be an honor, beyond doubt." Eragon said.

Arya laughed quietly, "Yes, you are a human that has supernatural power, reflexes and speaks in the ancient language. Who is also, one of the most powerful people in Alagaesia. But alas, I would be pleased to call you one of my own. To tell the truth, most of the time I forget you are human."

"As do I." Eragon agreed, especially when I am with my own people.

That said, they continued up the street, to the next and so on until sunset. Arya joined Eragon, diving into their magic and using their healing power to heal as many of the injured and sickly as they could.

For the rest of the day, they spent doing that and sharing money between the poor.

It was sundown when they stopped for a rest to replenish their energy.

The trio met under a large oak tree in the square. Leaning their heads against the rough bark, they discussed what Eragon would place in contents of the report to the Royal palace about the situation.

Cheerful after a largely productive day, Saphira flew them up to the castle after a while and they bid each other goodnight, confirming that they would be heading to Vroengard the next day at dawn.

* * *

So…we finally begin on our journey…all the groundwork has been laid (and for the random reviewers who wanted more action (pointedly: I AM MAYBE GOD & Mark), I hope you're vaguely happy…but let me remind you…this a ROMANCE fic, so in other words: if you don't like sap and fluff, what are you doing here? Go to the ACTION themed fandoms)

Please review…I won't beg this time, I want to see what happens if I don't.

For readers of 'Inevitable Fate' and 'Where the Heart Is', this isn't definite but right now I can't be bothered to continue (I've written the next chapters for both of them though) and have reached a major road block so if you are one of those who pester me lol to update…maybe you should consider doing a cowritten chappie with me. Either that or I might post a challenge to everyone who is willing- to use your imagination after I give you the details of the chapter, and to write the next chapter, which I will slightly edit or alter if it's not according to the overall plan and add some things that should be there, then post onto my story with your name on it.

I don't know how many people want to do that, but seeing that sometimes a fic annoys me so much I wish that the author would let me write the next chapter, I assumed people wouldn't mind doing the same for mine.

Tell me what you think, even though I might decide to write it myself by some random impulse...like I decided to cut off half my hair two days ago :D

Btw Tabitha of MoonAurora, I will read your story when I get to it...

daum'bid & Alathema: haha, that's my little secret...actually I have no idea...I might stick her in somewhere later.

ANGELOFTHE BLACKROSES: yes, they did go to separate rooms.

RockCityRoad Star: lol, I like your reviews, and yes, my secret agenda is to "blackmail people into reviewing", it's quite fun (and amusing when I get replies like yours when they notice what I do)...and I mean, well, if it works... :D To be honest I only look at the reviewers, not the alerts. Hehe acupuncture is finally over, dunno if it acually did any good.


	9. Chapter 9: Home Sweet Home

Hi, Pleasedon'tkillme! (ducks & hides)

So, I went on an extra long hiatus, so what? I'm back and ready to post another couple of chapters before Brisingr comes out, I don't want to rush things, but once the third book arrives, everybody will be posting new fics about it.

Consider this a birthday gift and dedicated to all my consistent reviewers (youze know who you are)…even though IT'S MY BIRTHDAY SOOONNNNNN!! Teehee (well it _was_ when I wrote this A/N, posting is another matter entirely...)

I won't take too long, and I'll save my rant and responses to my reviewers for the bottom of this chapter :D

Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Eragon is the property of Chris P…although I wouldn't mind it he were mine, he's _such_a hottie.

* * *

Chapter Nine – Home Sweet Home

The sea was relatively calm when they crossed the channel the next morning, but the raging winds were not.

Eragon and Arya wrapped themselves warmly in thick layers of clothing before taking flight. The salt in the gales stung their eyes, they could not converse due to the fact that every time they opened their mouths, they were choked by the wind.

It took several uneventful hours to fly to the island and during that time, Arya fell asleep on Eragon's back. Her arms were wrapped snugly and securely around his waist, her hands clasping each other across his abdomen, while her head rested in the shallow niche between his neck and shoulder blades.

Eragon closed his eyes, his mind acutely aware of the woman pressed behind him. Her body felt warm and oddly familiar on his spine, bodies so close they seemed to seal any warmth between them.

He woke her shortly before they arrived. The lookouts had already sighted Saphira half a mile away and the elder council had been alerted, Eragon noticed as they descended, making note of them waiting patiently at the landing pad.

On the island, it was another warm, tranquil day. Shouts resounded from the castle walls, the students rushing to their classes and sounds cheerful laughter filled the air. Dragons were roaring in delight as they soared freely around the mountains, some attending classes on sky maneuvers.

They dismounted together, then alongside Saphira, walked towards their waiting entourage.

The finely dressed group bowed low with respect before Eragon and Arya, some admiration and reverence leaking out behind some guarded eyes.

"Welcome back, Lord Rider, Dragon Saphira." Spoke the graying man at the front of the group.

Eragon inclined his head regally, a large beam interrupting the solemnity of his face.

"It is good to be home." He reached out and grasped a proffered forearm in a warrior's greeting.

He stepped back, and with his hand upon the small of her back, he gently ushered Arya in front. "May I present, Princess Arya Drottingnu of Ellesmera. She will be staying for a few weeks, as my guest, and for official business." He said.

Arya stepped forward and nodded to them as well.

Aleandra spoke from her place at the front of the receiving group, "I will inform the students of her arrival and that they are to show the proper respect." She said to Eragon.

He thanked her briefly, before his gaze swept over the faces in front of him again.

"Where is my brother, Murtagh?"

"He is overseeing the political lesson for the senior class. He sends his greetings and says that he will be joining you soon." Someone answered.

"Very well, then." Eragon paused, thinking, "Please grant me two days before convening the meetings, I will personally show Lady Drottingnu around Vroengard."

"Of course. Things have been going exceedingly well here in your absence. Take your time," The man remembered something. "Your chambers have prepared again, Lord Eragon. And we have allocated a guest room for you, Lady Arya, I hope it will satisfy you. Please follow us."

They bowed once again, then turned and started walking inside.

Arya was left to herself while Eragon was updated on the news by the council. Saphira took flight quickly on an updraft of air, flying a beeline towards a group of rambunctious young dragons playfully breathing fire over a lake some distance away in a competition, her jowls clamped together in amusement. She seemed very happy to be back.

They walked through magnificent halls and splendorous surroundings, the architecture and material of the clean cut blocks of stone that formed the castle, carefully chosen and mined by the dwarves as a gift and blessing to the renewal of the riders after the Age of Galbatorix.

They ascended a grand staircase made of pearly marble and perfectly polished, trimmed in gold and laid with lacquer.

The two separated from the rest of the assembly on the landing.

After parting with the necessary manners, he muttered to her, "They aren't usually like that. Most of the time, they are very interesting people to talk to, mostly very wise and give excellent advice."

"I am sure." Arya looked out from their higher vantage point, glad they had stopped walking, so that she could fully appreciate the beauty of Eragon's home, "Your castle looks magnificent. I can see why it took so long to complete." Arya remarked.

"Yes, we are very proud of it, it is carefully kept and maintained by all of us here," Eragon replied, "besides from that, I will show you your chambers, I asked them to ready one on my level of the castle, adjoins to the hall by one of the taller towers, so that I will be at hand."

"You do not have to do all this, Eragon." Arya said, shaking her head.

"It is fine. I am your host after all." He smiled at her, pausing a moment to take in her features,  
I will give you some time to settle in your room and bring you to dinner myself."

She let out an inaudible sigh, "Very well, but I do not expect such well treatment for all of my stay, I cannot ask you to do that; you must be very busy."

He was cut off from answering when a page appeared suddenly at his elbow, "Master Eragon," Came a young, male voice excitedly. The boy bowed deeply.

Arya noted subconsciously that Eragon was greatly loved on this island of the riders.

"Greetings, Ronar." He surveyed the boy with sharp eyes, before reaching out and ruffling his dirty blond hair affectionately.

"Have you practiced the sword maneuver I taught you before I left?" Eragon asked kindly, giving the boy his full attention.

"Yes sir!" The boy said eagerly.

"Very good. I will have you show me soon, after I take care of unfinished business that I have because of my leave." Eragon patted him firmly on the shoulder.

Ronar beamed up at Eragon. As Eragon turned to Arya, the boy's gaze followed curiously.

"This is Lady Drottingnu, she is here as an ambassador." Eragon directed to the boy.

The near ingrained manners and etiquette drummed into the boy at an early age at the Rider academy allowed the boy to react quickly as he quickly sank into an elvish court bow, "Milady."

Arya smiled, while the boy straightened his tunic discreetly.

"I am pleased to meet you, Ronar."

The boy gave out a pleased smile.

"So what message do you bring, Ronar?" Eragon asked, steering the topic back on track.

The boy apologized, before speaking.

"The elders would like to inform you, actually 'remind you'," He looked slightly nervous, "they asked me to tell you… that they knew you would forget about it: that there is our annual ball in one week. Formal." Ronar recited.

"Formal." Eragon groaned inwardly. _Is it common knowledge that I forget social events?_Eragon asked himself inwardly. He heard a distant laugh from Saphira.

"Yes sir. At sundown. It will be held in our ballroom." The page continued.

"I understand, thank you Ronar, for carrying the message well. I shall see you later." Eragon said.

The boy bowed once again, then scampered off out of sight.

"A ball?" Arya asked, as they continued their walk.

Eragon nodded, "I have to think of a speech. The one thing I hate about the ball."

Arya tucked a strand of hair behind her pointed ear, "I have nothing to wear, not to sound vain or anything."

Eragon laughed, "Never vain, Lady Drottingnu. I will have my best seamstress come and report to you."

Arya nodded vaguely.

They reached her door and Eragon opened it for her.

"I leave you here for now, Lady Drottingnu, I will escort you down later tonight. Feel free to wander." Eragon bowed, then walked briskly away to his own chambers, no doubt to catch up on his neglected work.

Dinner was an altogether a bright affair, though today was unusually so, with many of the students, namely, mostly males, fixed their eyes on the fair elven lady for longer than would be polite.

The elders, Eragon and Arya sat with the circle of Guardians: the very admired group of individually inducted knights that were the cream of the crop, the numbers only added to in decades.

Right below, alongside them, sat round tables of knighted riders, some in active duty, who sat in their close knit groups that they had been allocated and grown up with, occasionally sporting a knight from another whom they were friends with.

The small group of apprenticed soon-to-be-knighted riders had also a round table close to their masters'.

The younger students in training sat in their own loose clusters, along wooden benches at the four long rectangular tables that stretched vertically from Eragon's table that faced them, to the end of the hall. They did not sit in any particular order: some came from the same year groups, or extra specialty classes that they attended because of the skills.

The food was delicious and rich. Meat was catered for those whose training had not come to an end yet who therefore did not understand why others were vegetarians.

Murtagh had joined Eragon and Arya a little later on in the proceedings, now all three were sitting together at their Riders table.

They shared past events and told stories that Eragon had yet to tell Arya about.

As the evening came to an end, Eragon dismissed all the riders to their individual tasks and activities. Without a word, Arya stood and followed him on another aimless walk.

They stopped at a balustrade overlooking a beautiful water garden in the center of the castle.

Arya leaned on the granite banister and sighed, looking up at the bright stars that glittered above her in the dark sky.

A warm hand rested on her shoulder.

"I would like to show you something." Eragon's voice said warmly.

Arya turned and after studying his queer expression intently, nodded.

He offered her his arm, and she took it with no qualms.

They ascended flights of stairs swiftly, billowing through winding hallways and side rooms, finally pushing an old, heavy trapdoor open at the end of a dark corridor.

A gentle breeze of the night air gushed part her face as it rushed into the space they stood in, cooling her skin.

Eragon stepped through first, turning and taking her willing hand politely, guiding her gently past him.

They were very high up. Her head lifted up from watching her feet that stepped over a small step.

She gasped.

Eragon had revealed a blooming and flowering garden of tropical and exotic flowers, trees, and plants. Ivy grew in large clusters on archways and hung gracefully, swaying hypnotically in the light wind. The luscious flowers were in full blossom, in various colours and individual, intoxicating scents. There seemed to be an air of magic and an enthralling aura in the uncovered, outdoor paradise. There was a stone bench set along one of the mossy stone pathways, ferns overhanging it, providing shade and privacy. The flora and foliage was set around a large fountain in the middle. Midnight blue water flowed off its sprout and dripped in a peaceful fall down into the lower bowl.

"It's…" She shook her head impercepibly; no words could come to her tongue to describe this mortal heaven.

Eragon smiled gently.

"I know. It was _her_ favourite place where she came to be by herself. I sang it for her with all of my heart."

"You did this?" Arya asked, unwittingly, she felt a pang of homesickness for beautiful Ellesmera. Her gaze stopped on his face, and she wondered if she was intruding his wife's personal hideaway, but then her heart warmed when she realized he trusted her enough to bring her here.

"The elven cities were my inspiration." He admitted, bringing her around the paths, exploring the hidden depths of this wonderland.

Arya's eyes took in all that they could, but even so, there was much more awaiting her.

Finally they stopped at the bench.

"I must go now," Eragon said, seeming a little disappointed, "I have much to do. Would you like to stay here for a while or shall I show you back to your rooms?"

Arya looked down, "If you don't mind, I would like to look around a while longer."

"Of course, you are welcome to spend as much time as you like here," Eragon told her, "I trust you know how to get back to our level? This place is purposely secluded, there won't be anyone near, but if you get to the more common levels, you will find some help if you need."

She nodded, "I am confident I will find my rooms sooner or later. Thank you, for your company tonight."

He bowed, "It was my pleasure. Sleep as long as you like tomorrow, I will show you around the palace when you awaken, and we can pass by the kitchen for breakfast."

Exchanging a simple farewell, he departed.

* * *

The next two days passed by quickly, if one asked either Eragon and Arya, who were enjoying their time together immensely.

Over the span of a few weeks, Eragon showed her the vast palace, the training grounds, gardens, then out of the vicinity, into the wild. They traversed the rugged mountains, white sandy beaches with crystal clear water, the endless plains, hidden caves, cliffs and villages where older riders could choose to live with their husband or wife and children.

Arya found that the island had an air of order to the daily tasks and routines. She found it unexpectedly comfortable and very adaptable.

Eragon left her on the third day after their excursions, meeting up with his council. After drifting around for the whole day, Arya met him at dinner, as usual, and the two spent time together before returning to their own beds.

Arya was invited to the council on the fifth day, and was offered a seat near Eragon; a great honour that Eragon downplayed. She listened attentively, sitting straight as a poker all throughout the session, jotting notes and nodding occasionally to some comment.

Eragon presided over these such conferences and though Arya at first was startled at the change, having been used to his soft words when they were alone, found his businesslike demeanor very attractive.

_How much wiser and intelligent he had become in the time we have been apart!_ She thought. _But yet, he was easily irritated by foolish words during these sessions_.

In her now abundant spare time, she had gone to see the seamstresses. They had taken her measurements, promising to be ready for her fitting shortly. They were true to their word, efficiently perfected her dress to fit her long legs and slim waist, although also making alterations to better emphasise her average womanly curves.

Arya eyed the final product appraisingly, nodding her head to herself in satisfaction and murmuring praise of the quality of the work.

It was the night before the ball, that Eragon stopped Arya before she stepped into her room.

He cleared his throat, mock importantly, taking her hand with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"Arya Drottingnu. Would you do me the great pleasure of accompanying me to the ball tomorrow?" His gaze was cheerful, but the intensity shone through.

Her eyes widened a little. "I beg your pardon?"

He asked again.

"I…"

Eragon rolled his eyes, "Come now, Arya, just agree. It is not like I'm asking for your hand again."

Arya cringed a little at the mention of that incident by the Menoa tree so long ago that he apparently had not forgotten...and neither had she.

"Eragon-vor, I would be honoured." She said, giving a small smile.

"Until tomorrow night then, Lady Drottingnu," He gave a swift, debonair bow and brushed his lips over her hand, "good night." After a charming (or beaming) smile, he strolled away.

Arya watched his retreat until it receded into the shadows, blankly, then proceeded the rest of the way into her room.

She closed the door and slid to the floor on the other side, her knees pressed up to her chest, head bent backward, resting on the door, eyes glistening at the ceiling…

…and felt strangely happy.

* * *

Yes I know, cheesy and OOC for my own entertainment.

You won't be seeing me that much on the Eragon fandoms any longer, sorry, cuz I've found a new love: CHUCK, it is the meanest TV series ever, plus chuck is kinda cute in a dorky way, and Chuck/Sarah is simply adorable ;)

I expect a lot of reviews since it's my big day in a few days ae? Hmmm, that reminds me, gotta book the paintballing session for the party soon.

Is anyone watching the Olympic soccer? I love my sports. NEW ZEALAND is gonna take over the world!! Woooottt…just not in football.

SO, GOOOO NEW ZEALAND!! AND GO BRAZIL (mens) of course for the soccer!! (Although it's a shame that all the big names haven't appeared (like Robinho, Ronaldo, Kaka etc) I've just finished watching Brazil vs Belgium, and NZ vs China's next.

Thanks for all the (mostly) support and reviews!

I've got wayyyy more to say, but I think you're all kinda bored, bear with me: (Sorry, but I'm not in the bestest mood tonight, and I'm craving chocolate, so…)

xXOcean-BabeXx: Nope, not abandoning, I'm just trying to run away from all the people demanding for another chapter in their reviews instead of evaluating my writing lol

SoulSurvivor23: Bugger off mate, ranting is my life, so if you don't like it, go away or ignore that bit…maybe I should post a whole chapter with just me ranting as the next update? Just for you. xox

negative134: um, yeah, wow, you suit your name very much. The first few chapters focuses on Eragon/Arya, and Saphira makes brief appearances later on. If you 'feel she deserves more time', please write a fic yourself consisting of Saphira and Eragon to sate your needs. I just don't really feel like writing about her right now, but thanks for the heads up. 

Arya 4 ever.: yeah you didn't ask any questions, but I just wanted to thank you for your nice & helpful review that actually consists of something other than: 'Write more. Nice work' (no offense to any reviewers).

Lord Cornelius Ravencroft: Cheers for your review, I appreciate it. For once, someone is actually willing to wait for an update.

daum'bid: I can't actually remember what my comment was, so yeah, no worries.

RockCityRoadStar: did I send you a PM for this reply? Can't remember. Yeah, thank God I've finished acupuncture a while ago, although my ankle isn't 100 yet, might have to see a sports specialist. Love your rambling darling.

tennisplayerx33: Yes, it 'is it really necessary for you (me) to punish your (my) faithful reviewees by waiting for one or two more'. 'Often, people lose interest in a story that forces people to review', yes I am aware of that, but honestly, I don't think I will miss your reviews much, I'm not forcing people to review, it's an incentive and actually a part/running joke. 'People also read but they might not review'…yeah, that's why I put that plead for reviews up in the first place. 'Don't punish others because of their poor choice'…patience is a virtue.

**Yes, I am overly bitchy today. Deal with it. :D**


	10. Chapter 10: Beat of My Heart

I'm backkkkkk, my little duckies!! Miss me?

Did I mention how creepy some of you are by stalking me? And occasionally popping up in my emails demanding I write another chapter of one of my stories? Haha, I'm glad you're so...enthusiastic, and dedicated...and obsessed...*creeped out look*

Disclaimer: Chris P- thanks for lending Eragon to mwa for so long, but I'm afraid my affair with him has ended; I've moved onto bigger and better things.

_**  


* * *

  
Chapter Ten - Sway to the Beat of my Heart  
**_

***

The night the ball was held, was a warm, balmy summer's night. A gentle breeze blew through the large clearing, which was illuminated by numerous lanterns providing the only light.

A mysterious, dreamy aura was contributed by the luminous glow all around, the lights hanging on trees, sitting on tables and the lining pathways.

The wooden dance floor was polished to a high sheen, smooth and untouched. Riders of all ages stood around, conversing, laughing and sharing, holding drinks in their hands.

This year, the ale and beer was firmly forbidden to the younger dragons, as last year they set the gazebo on fire, which was further fueled by the alcohol standing nearby, which, needless to say, caused a relatively large amount of chaos.

Eragon approached this picturesque scene with Arya on his arm.

She was dressed elegantly in form-fitting emerald green that brought out her eyes. It dipped low at the back, and nor was it too conservative at the front either. Diamonds studded into the ruffled hems, sparked and shimmered in the light. As she walked, the dress flowed and danced behind them like a pale apparition.

The lightly brushed gold powder on Arya's eyelids lent her a glowing radiance that entranced Eragon whenever he ventured to look at her- which for his own sanity- was not often.

He himself was in a silvery tunic with a soft midnight blue shirt, black leggings and dirt brown boots. His hair, was for once in an orderly fashion, Arya taking it upon herself to tame the messy mop.

No matter that he was nearing his eighty fifth year; he looked like he was in his twentieth, as did Arya.

It was with a jolt that Eragon suddenly realized that he and Arya looked the same age. He did not know where that thought had come from, and brushed it away rather quickly.

They exchanged light banter on their way down, stopping sometimes to talk to mutual friends and acquaintances. Eragon watched a laughing Arya carefully, smiling to himself; she had changed so much.

The music was light and cheerful, a smooth melody with a catchy beat. Couples tapped their foot to the rhythm, crowded around the various dance floors, obviously keening to dance.

When he arrived, there was much elbow nudging and pushing, until those around bowed to him and some, although unnecessary in such relaxed surroundings- executed the riders' salute: a closed right fist, brought against the left side of the chest below the shoulder. Eragon rolled his eyes unobtrusively as some kept the position and bowing simultaneously for extra respect.

He stopped at the entrance and returned a bow at the audience.

Tedious courtesies observed, everybody fell back into loud cacophony and some came over to greet the two newcomers.

The light food, drink and snack were at a long table to one side, where mostly smaller children teemed, even though many had eaten their dinner already.

Gathering and quieting the crowd, the elders gave a speech, then Murtagh, and lastly a very reluctant Eragon.

"My fellow Riders, it is with great pride I stand before you tonight.

"This ball is to celebrate our eightieth anniversary of the rebirth of the Order of Riders. It has taken a strong trust and friendship within our previously small number to produce this now flourishing and expanding growth.

"You have all performed and done well this year, may your hard work, determination and honour. Hone your skill with the blade, archery, knowledge and peacemaking, apply yourself into your studies in our history, language, politics and all subjects.

"We stand for equality, and justice, and carry ourselves with pride and self worth, but be humble; for we are servants of the kingdom. Protect the innocent, give to the poor, set an example. These are the things all of the council and I expect," Eragon paused,

He grinned, the older riders chuckled among themselves, eyes darting to the younger ones,

"I want to wish you all a wonderful and largely…" he stopped again, looking pointedly at the dragons and their younger riders, "**sober** night. So, dance away!"

With a sweep of his hand, the musicians started up the music and the riders all cheered, dragging their partners to dance.

He strode from the stage and headed toward Arya, who was ineffectively trying to hide a smirk.

She spoke as he drew closer, "And just when I was about to tell myself how mature you have become…such a shame."

He laughed. "The message was serious enough, although the delivery may not have been…"

To her surprise, he bowed then.

"May I have your first dance, princess?" He asked.

She gave him her hand, "Certainly, Lord Shadeslayer, since you have been_ such_ the gentleman."

He chivalrously offered her his arm. She linked hers with his and they sinuously moved towards a dance floor that was somewhat less occupied.

The air had a soothing quality to it, as they stopped, Arya's hair lifted by the wind.

They faced each other, Eragon taking one of her hands, resting the other on her waist.

Murtagh wolf whistled at them, but both ignored him.

They swayed gently to the music while their dance gradually attracted more and more spectators. The two's matched steps transfixed their audience as they moved in time to the beat. It looked much like they had practiced it beforehand; their bodies were limber and graceful, one could compare it to a leaf dancing in the wind; movements flowing, fluid.

Their feet barely touched the ground more than a second before pushing off again.

_They are an attractive couple, are they not?_ Saphira murmured to Areyn: an old friend of Eragon and her own who was part of the senior council.

Areyn's head was tilted, eyes fixed on Eragon and Arya, "Yes, Saphira, that they are. It makes my old heart warm seeing a display such as this," She sighed, "How I miss my pair bond. It brings up memories."

Saphira nudged her elbow with her snout, _It was his time to go, dear one_.

Soon, the people dispersed, leaving the two some privacy.

The said 'two' barely noticed. So lost were Eragon and Arya in the music, their hands had moved of their own accord: hers around his neck, both of his positioned on her waist.

Ocean blue met a bright forest green. They danced straight through several songs. Arya's eyes closed after the fifth, and she rested her forehead lightly against the front of his shoulder, exhaling softly. Eragon's head bowed a little, letting the pine scent permeate his senses.

The clapping after a particular song seemed finally able to rouse the duo, they stepped apart, holding hands and facing one another.

"You dance wonderfully, Lady Drottingnu," Eragon said quietly in the ancient language, she searched his gaze, there seemed to be something new flittering in those bottomless depths.

"Likewise, Eragon," She said, "even if we greatly exceeded the number of dances that are publicly considered polite for diplomats. Dozens of rumours will be enthused, and they will _somehow _make their way to my mother."

Eragon dropped one of her hands and held the other in both of his own, tracing the long slender digits affectionately, "Don't think so negatively, princess, things can end up to be the greater good."

"So you are saying that my beloved mother dying of a heart attack when she hears of this- is the 'greater good'? That I get the throne?" She asked teasingly.

He laughed, "You know what I mean. Anyway, who why would she have a heart attack? ...anyone would love to have me as a mate…" His eyebrow flicked suggestively, and he posed, flexing his muscles.

Arya slapped him lightly on the arm, "Incorrigible."

He grinned, "Wouldn't you know it."

"Know what?" She said, an undertone of flirtatiousness underlining her words.

They carried on their mockery of each other as passersby stared at them queerly.

Picking a secluded table, they sat down in contented silence as they watched the going-ons around them; Saphira downing ale after ale, with a visiting Orik that had come that morning as her drinking partner; younger couples swirling about clumsily around them; male riders trying to impress females unsuccessfully.

All too soon, the party drew to a close. The riders went off in twos and threes, already yawning and more than a little tipsy.

"Shall we go then?" Eragon asked, pulling Arya up gently out of her chair with one hand, "May I escort you to your room?"

"Of course, Eragon," Arya said, starting to wind her way around drunken students on the floor while Eragon followed, "What are you going to do with those on the floor?"

He peered around, "Usually we leave them, and the next day when they are late to class, they are given punishments...." he considered for a moment, "But we will make an exception, since tonight has gone so well. I will have some servants pick them up and transfer them to their respective rooms."

They made their way past the fragrant flowerbeds and green bushes amidst the cold stone walls.

When they reached the secluded level of their sleeping quarters, outside her room, she turned to face him.

They stared at each other for a while, not speaking, uncomfortable and not knowing what to say.

"You look wonderful tonight, Lady Drottingnu," Eragon said finally, his voice low and hushed, "Thank you for accompanying me."

"_Arya_." She said firmly, though a light flush arose on her cheeks.

"Arya." Eragon imitated.

Arya took her gaze evasively to his neck, "You have made me very happy tonight, Eragon. I haven't enjoyed such festivities in years."

He touched her hand briefly, "It was my pleasure." He gazed at her for a moment. "Good night, Arya… I will see you in the morn." He turned, and started walking. A voice stopped him.

"Eragon."

He turned around and waited. Arya was standing where he had left her, outwardly composed, but he could see her fingers twisting a little in the skirts of her gown.

She looked up and walked to him slowly.

His breath caught as the gap between their bodies lessened, and he could hear her quickened breathing loud in his ears.

Suddenly, he was aware of how isolated they were, how empty and quiet the hall was, and how the blood pounded viciously through his head.

Arya brought her hand up to rest in the middle of his chest, met his eyes. Tiptoeing a little, she raised herself to his height.

His hand automatically made it's way to her back, feeling unreasonably self conscious.

Her breath was soft, and the exhale fluttered against Eragon's cheeks. His eyes were on her, pinned, unmoving; confused, yet intrigued.

She bit her lip, tentatively leaning to him, she let her head brush past his, and laid a tender kiss on the skin of his face, letting her lips stay for a few heartbeats, the slight stubble on his jaw tickling against her own skin.

Her feelings and awareness were heightened strangely. She could smell his scent, feel his muscles beneath her fingers, his warmth radiated against her; everything about him seemed to overpower their surroundings, and blanket her.

The couple seemed like tragic lovers from a romantic ballad. Their forms stood in the shadowed hallway, a thin silver beam of moonlight shed light on the floor by their feet.

She leaned on him, barely a crack between them in their half-embrace. It seemed like culmination of centuries, of prophecies coming to life, as nature finally let out a long held-in breath.

Arya basked in his company; his presence was solid, and real. Then she broke away, their arms retreating to their respective owners.

There was electricity now, a spark. Their moment was over, but it's lingering effects brought many troublesome questions, reflections and evaluations.

She curtsied without a word, and with him nodding his head, expression every bit dazed as hers, she retreated into her room quietly, closing the door with a small thud.

* * *

Yes, I know, very cheesy and out of character. It was written a while back and I couldn't be bothered to improve it. My writing has changed a lot, looking back some of 'em, so some of the fics will be permanently ditched.

Sorry for the long delay…blame the Chuck fandom. It sucks you in like an evil bitch lol

I love Chuck/Sarah, they were made for each other (and us watchers).

So, I'm hopefully going to find time to post up the new chapters and finish off some fics, but don't expect any new ones from me for a while, I'm caught up in Chuck.

Does anyone else find the login format annoying? I can't find anything for the love of Chuck...

Anyway, review is love!


	11. Chapter 11: Calm Before the Storm

Santa's here with an early xmas pressie!

Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Would someone please wrap Eragon up and deliver him to my address with a cute pink bow around his neck?

* * *

_**  
Chapter 11- Calm Before the Storm**_

---

The next morning Arya awoke and went about her morning rituals. It was part way through when she realized she was fussing more than usual on her appearance.

Her brow furrowed, what was this? She had not been this way since she was a skittish young girl with Faolin.

Putting the thought aside for later, she dressed and was sliding her slippers on when someone rapped on her door.

A messenger in silver and blue silks was waiting politely outside, when he saw her; he bowed, murmuring a greeting. "Lord Shadeslayer inquires whether your schedule is free for tonight, Lady Arya."

She remained expressionless, studying the emblem stitched onto the front in black, recognizing it as Eragon's personal crest, an intricate and swirling dragon stretched out, with wings regally flared. "For him- it always is open," She said, smiling to herself inwardly.

The boy nodded, "I shall take that message right away, my lady."

Arya allowed her small smile to creep onto her face, instructing the boy to stand up properly, then questioned him, "How did you end to be in this job?" She asked, "You do not seem to be a Rider, most of the younger riders take up the job you have, do they not?"

He set his hands behind his back neatly, replying with a little nervousness, "No, my lady. Lord Eragon was extremely gracious to bring me into his personal service, I am one of a small group, his personal runners. I am very honoured. He rescued me from my burning village several years ago when rouge Urgals besieged us. My mother and father died, and I was made an orphan."

His eyes were bright, as if he were suppressing tears.

_Bless him, he is trying to act like a man._ Arya thought to herself, feeling pity for him who she guessed to be around the age of nine.

"You must miss them terribly," She said gently.

He swallowed hard, "Yes, but I was quite young when it happened, so I cannot remember my mother clearly. I am indebted to Lord Eragon, he saved my life, and gave me a wonderful opportunity to live, to be educated, and taught the weapon. I would die for him." His words were simply said, but there was no doubt to his conviction and solidity of his words.

Arya placed a hand upon his shoulder, touched by his courage, "You have been through much, young one. Do not hesitate to come to me for help if you have need."

The boy looked overwhelmed, and could not find the right words to express himself.

"What is your name?" Arya asked kindly.

"…Daiilan, Lady Drottingnu." He said with a quiet voice.

"Daiilan," She mused, "It sounds elven. You have carried your message well, I hope I will see you again."

He regained his wit and bowed, "Thank you, you have been too kind to me."

She nodded, and he walked away as composedly as he could, his light footsteps fading away.

--

That day passed quickly as she had her first meal, then headed to the personal training grounds of Eragon and the more talented riders, practicing her archery and sword techniques with the few that lingered there.

Everybody was almost gone when she walked late into the lunch hall. She savoured the quiet and peacefulness around her, chewing thoughtfully on her salad.

The rest of the afternoon she spent in the extensive library in a corner with a love ballad, eyes scanning the flowing words intently. She ignored the bustle about her, as riders sat down to complete work and study. No one bothered her here, and she could see many higher riders also sharing the use of the books and literature for their research.

All too soon, the dark came and she got ready for her meeting with Eragon, dressing immaculately and oddly- less modestly than she usually would have.

They met by a fountain in the center of the castle, he looking a bit awkward at first, the brief encounter last night still fresh in their minds.

They spent hours together, talking and laughing, while Eragon showed her even more sights around the castle and discussed several of his students that he felt had potential.

He seemed proud of them, speaking of them as if they were sons and daughters that had been borne to him himself.

They stopped in the secret garden, sitting together on the stone bench, leaning toward each other slightly for warmth. The moonlight shone with a slight waver, beams of milk accentuating the shadows on the roses on a nearby bush and reflecting off leaves.

When they lapsed into comfortable silence, Arya glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. Seeing the man that he had become, she couldn't help thinking how different it all would be if she had accepted his advances earlier when he confessed his affections at the Agaeti Blodhren. She had not thought of what he would grow to be, how he would be. She did not think he would grow to be this Eragon of the present.

His face was upturned, the scant light falling across his face mysteriously.

Slowly, uncertainly, her fingers crept towards his, sliding over his long digits that lay bare pressed against the stone. His hand was warm, and a comfort to her icy fingertips.

He did not look at her, and she had her face turned away to the opposite of him, embarrassed.

Then after a while, his tense spine relaxed and his hand turned in her grasp, palm up, his fingers entwining with hers.

She curled her fingers around his loosely, letting go of a breath she did not remember holding.

--

Over the next few weeks, their night time excursions happened often, bringing a sense of normality and distraction to the couple.

They gravitated closer and closer, holding hands now felt comfortable, being a regular habit. Their personalities seemed to be able to mesh easily, having none of those relationship problems that other couples had at the beginning.

Occasionally, Arya found enough courage to brush his face with a soft kiss before separating, and even at times, he responded by holding her closely and returning a kiss to her forehead, pulling his fingers through her smooth hair before backing away.

The riders did not pass rumours about the two, but there were a significant amount of giggles and pleased smiles when they passed through the castle together.

Arya sent regular reports back to her mother in Ellesmera, telling her of the situation, what Eragon had accomplished over the years. Islanzadi could not hear her daughter's voice but could sense a faint note of lightness in Arya's letters. Her own return letters had a sort of knowing feeling in them, which made Arya grin slightly when she read them.

Islanzadi's heart was soothed when she read over her daughter's letters, and thanked the stars for whomever was lifting her spirits.

It was one of those afternoons when the elven queen sat comfortably by the seat beside her window reading Arya's latest letter, when a firm knock sounded on her door.

She got to her feet gracefully despite her age.

"General Faladriel," She said politely, "What do I owe this visit to?"

His middle-aged face was grave and serious, and after he completed the greeting, she immediately sat him down and poured him a cup of steaming herbal tea.

"My thanks." He said with his smooth tenor voice, cupping it in both hands.

She seated herself and waited for his news.

The general placed his cup gently onto his knees, "My queen, we have received news that several mysterious creatures have been prowling the land of Alagaesia. There has not been much information except from the common fact that they are hooded, humanoid in body structure and have extreme powers."

She looked at him curiously, "Has this claim not been investigated yet?"

"No my lady, the Riders have not been informed, and we have just received word a few minutes ago." He answered.

Islanzadi sat deep in thought.

Faladriel seemed to read her mind, cutting through her reverie, "Perhaps it would be best if we bring the Princess Arya home. It will not be suitable for her to be far away from us in this time of unknowing." He suggested.

She considered, "Would she not be safer in the hands of the Riders? I trust Eragon with her life. And also the elders. Murtagh is also there for extra precaution."

"We will not be content of her safety in someone else's protection, wouldn't you feel more assured if it were fellow elves and yourself who picked her guard and oversee the security plan? After all, she is the heir to the throne. Also, Rider Murtagh has already started on his journey back to Nasuada and his son, Turin. Reports are that the prince is nearly eligible to take over Alagaesia's throne. Murtagh should be arriving in a few hours time."

"Do they know of the situation?" She asked.

"No, he is returning because Eragon has settled and has things running smoothly at Vroengard again. Nasuada most likely is looking forward to his presence by her side again anyway. He _is_ the king of Alagaesia, even though she runs most of the kingdom." Faladriel answered.

"Then have him informed, we have no time to waste. We must have the riders examine these happenings, they are Alagaesia's protectors after all, and they have the utmost authority in this land. The people will not oppose them. Have these strangers caused any trouble so far?" She asked.

He stroked his chin, "No, not yet, they have been seen flitting about like they are non existent, but no one has been reported as harmed."

"Very well. Get to it. And as for my daughter..." she sighed regretfully, "bring her home. I want a full sentinel, and if possible if the riders can spare one of their own. I will call in on an old favour, but even so, Lord Eragon will not refuse me; he and Arya used to be close acquaintances. Keep her safe and lookout all the time. I want our best for this journey." She said briskly, emphasizing how important her last sentence was.

General Faladriel stood, bowing, "Of course, my Queen, we will guard her with our lives without a second thought."

"Good. Report to me once your task is completed. Do not forget to inform the humans and Riders of these events."

He bowed once more, then strode out of the room quickly.

Islanzadi sat down heavily, looking out into the sunlight of the noon day, at the blooming flowers outside her window.

_Forgive me, Arya. _

* * *

Uh oh, it seems like our _second_ favourite couple (Chuck and Sarah are FIRST) are going to be separated…

It's not too long, sorry, but this chapter contains a big wrench so I guess that made up for it. I just realised I've been spelling Arya's last name wrong, please don't be too hard on me. I know it seems it's drawing to a close, and even I thought we were near the end, but I checked, and we have at least another 10 chapters to go :D We're only halfway!

I watched HSM 3 yesterday!! Aw Zac Efron's so adorable, Corbin's cute as usual, and Zeke was _very niiice _*Borat voice*

Thanks for the many reviews last chapter, I wonder if we can top that this time?

Aim for the nice green button right next to the pointer...

---

Read on if you think you might have a reply from your reviews last chapter (or Chapter 9 too):

**_Kelsey0713_**: It's nice to get reviews like yours. Thanks.

**_Nick_**: I have no idea what you are trying to tell me, please un-jumble your words. Unless anyone else what's to decipher his message for me?

**_xLilypadsx_**: I know Arya is ooc, I just can't be bothered changing it. Although, keep in mind that this is a long time after the series, and they've spent time together.

**_Ryder Blade_**: Lol, of course not :) You're just a faithful reviewer.

**_EmeraldArya_**: You are one nice reviewer. Thanks for not being pushy and for taking the time to read my Chuck fanfics, it means a lot. I have higher regard for my Chuck fics, they seem to be written better, but it's hard to tell, it's difficult making the transition from 'old English-esque' writing to normal, conversation English that Chuck calls for.

**_InheritanceFan1990_**: I won't let you down lol I promise this fic will be finished, it's just a matter of how long. I'm determined to have at least one completed multichapter finished.

**_chasingfireflies_**: I think I've already answered your review in a PM, but great to see your randomness, as usual.

**_Squealing Lit. Fan_**: I'm pretty sure I've PM'd you too, and yes, it's quite unhealthy, the way I'm addicted to Chuck. I'm having a block in the Chuck section right now, it's okay though, since they're currently harassing the better writers to post something, so I'm safe.

**_METALLICxTEARs_**: Um, yeah...I'm not too concerned with the specifics so...yeah, it's a miracle that I'm even bothering to update really, but I can't let the readers who've been following this fic from chapter one down.

**_crimsonsword142_**: Thanks, I guess that's just the way I write, I tend to ramble about details. This fic was written before Brisingr came out, so I can't really be faulted about the Eragon/Murtagh brotherly thing.

**_morgan_**: Aw, I'm flattered :D


	12. Chapter 12: The Untimely Interjection

For those that have me on author alert, thank you for putting up with alerts of my Chuck stories, your patience is finally rewarded by a new chapter just in time to ruin your late-Valentines :D (not to mention Eragon and Arya's).

Really, I'm flattered by the "Can you update?" PMs but they don't really help writer's block (since I've decided to release one Chuck fic and one Eragon fic simultaneously to avoid bloodshed from the readers who have me on authors alert), therefore meaning if I can't think of anything for Chuck, there won't be anything for Eragon even if the chapter is sitting in a folder accumulating dust, which this one has been.

Disclaimer: I don't really want to own Eragon anymore...but I have a whole long list of things that I still want that I didn't get for Xmas if anyone's interested...

* * *

_**Chapter Twelve- The Untimely Interjection of Reality**_

**---**

It was early in the morning at Vroengard, although all it's inhabitants had woken timely with the dawn and the first bell had chimed for breakfast.

And just when the bustling in the castle floors under him began; Eragon received an official letter bearing the Elven Queen's seal, brought to him by a pure white dove that fluttered high into his tower.

He sat with a good amount of uneasiness at his strong oak desk, the letter resting unopened in his hands. Each time he stared at the elegant hand-written _Rider_ _Eragon Shadeslayer_ he felt another sting of morbid apprehension.

He was about to set the bad news he knew it contained away for later when a soft knock came from his door.

Standing, he made his way through the open plan area and grasped the door handle, pulling it open to discover a welcome surprise.

At the top of the steps that led from the hallway of the official's chambers, stood Arya, bearing a laden tray of fresh fruits and bread.

She brushed past him with a simple human greeting and a smile, making her way to the dining table through the other room.

He didn't move, except to swivel around to watch her make her way easily through his home. Thinking offhandedly to himself that he liked it when she was wearing common clothes, he reasoned that it was because it meant she was comfortable enough with him enough not to need to hold her guard up and appear dignified in his presence.

Clearly he wasn't in his right mind, he thought as he gazed at her absently.

_This might be the most beautiful apparition I have seen._

Arya seemed to glow in the mornings, open and her face natural, clear of any inks or colouring. Her hair was unbound and swayed with her gait. It felt so natural, the way she commanded his personal territory.

"I thought we might beat the morning crowd in the mess halls. I set this up myself earlier. I decided we could eat together here in quiet." She called to him.

Eragon made his way to her, feeling Saphira's thought processes clear up from a dreamy jumbe in his head. Knowing she awakened, he gave her a fond greeting, receiving a morning-irritable grunt in return.

He stepped through the doorway and leaned on the doorframe quietly as Arya set about putting plates and drinks in front of two seats at one end.

She looked up at his silence, her eyes traveling involuntarily to his hands he still clutched between his fingers.

Her face paled slightly, "Is that-"

He looked down in surprise as well, remembering the letter he had not put down before. "Yes."

Arya gestured for him to sit and did so herself, her unsteady as she pulled her chair in.

Eragon slowly broke the wax seal, feeling the fine paper slide smoothly beneath his hands and inhaling deeply at the large burst of the fragrance of Ellesmera that wafted up from the freshly opened parchment.

He took a deep breath, his eyes scanning the words. The words were read, but barely registered in his mind. As he got halfway, his eyes turned stoic and unreadable.

Arya watched him intently, looking for signals in his facial expression, their breakfast forgotten and untouched.

When he finally finished, he folded it up carefully without a word, his face still stony. Eragon placed it in front of it, and linked his fingers together, leaned back into his high-backed seat and let out a long, slow sigh.

"What is it?" She asked, breaking the stillness, her voice a little husky as she watched his closed eyes.

They flickered underneath the thin lids.

"Queen Islanzadi wants you to return home." He said dispassionately.

He could not express any other emotion, for all that was in him at the precise moment was an empty chasm devoid of any particular feeling.

The unused fork in the she-elf's hand dropped with a _clang_ onto the table.

"_What…_?!"

Eragon opened his eyes, blinking tiredly as if he had just awoken. He leaned forward.

"Apparently, there is some sort of dangerous creature lurking about Alagaeisa. Their intentions yet unknown, but they are to be treated with caution. From, trusted sources, they are heading towards this island.

"She feels it is too dangerous for you to remain here, just in case, as you are heir of the forest. They will send elves to escort you home.

"And I quote: 'no offense is to be taken personally and there is not ill will or distrust towards the Riders. There is no indication that you are not fit for the protection of our princess at all. There is just a concern of our council for our princess's safety and as you surely will be resolving the situation, it is better for us elves to care for our own kin and take her off your capable -but soon to be busy- hands'."

He handed her the letter, which she took with shaking hands, almost tearing it in her haste to read.

Arya's eyes skimmed over the document quickly, her heart pounding, her eyes narrowing in anger as they went lower and lower, and her fair features took on an incredulous expression.

At last, she set it down in between her hands that lay on the table. Her shoulders had drooped an inch, but her posture still painfully straight-backed and regal.

"She can't do this," Arya informed him, with a quiet fury underneath her tone. "My designated time has not run out yet- my work here is not done."

Eragon shrugged in helplessness. He had made his decision while she had been reading her mother's intentions.

"Are you about to defy her wishes again, Lady Drottingnu?" He raised his eyes to hers.

She met his gaze levelly, and with staunch conviction. "I am my own master. I shall do as I wish."

He deflated a little, carefully considering his next words.

Arya read his features, "Why do you ask … do you disapprove of my actions?"

"I am simply … in doubt of it's effectiveness," He replied, "Please don't be too unreasonable. Your mother is a very stubborn woman."

Arya shook her head, "As is the rest of the female elven species."

He laughed, his voice a little strained, "Yes, I had forgotten. You all have the same trait … But still- Queen Islanzadi will do what is needed to get her way- and to get you back."

Arya's voice suddenly turned probing, "That is not all I suspect…"

Eragon's face turned away slightly, unable to face her.

"There is another reason why you do not want me to resist my mother, is there not?" She peered at him sharply, "You want me to go along with her plans, to return back to Ellesmera."

That was not a question.

-And Eragon knew it.

He looked at her a slight hint of guilt in his eyes for her was about to cause her pain with his good intentions. "Who am I to defy your mother? Who am I to disobey the queen? There is more than us here, the matter of it is that I have to keep the balance, politics-"

Arya spoke, though slowly this time, as if steering in uncertain waters, cutting off his protests, "…and you have no trouble with the idea of my leaving. Am I that much of a burden to you?"

His eyes expanded in astonishment. She had taken his concern for her the wrong way, he wanted to do what was necessary to keep her safe. "No! That was not what I implied, I only meant to-"

"-but you meant it." She said dangerously, eyes flashing, cutting across him again. She stood up, her chair scraping the floor and nearly tipping at the violent movement.

He stood as well, hands reaching, trying to make his point clear, "I-"

Arya shook her head, her face showing her masked hurt and plain disbelief with his siding.

"And to think, all this time I thought that we-"

She drifted off, then shook her head sharply and headed for the door. "…None of that matters anymore, _Lord_ Shadeslayer," Her tone bitter, "You have stated your intentions clearly enough now."

Eragon was confused, "What intentions?"

She let out a biting laugh, her reply astringent. "And I thought you couldn't be any denser…"

With Eragon rooted to the spot, she spun on her heel without a look at him and closed the door with a loud _snap_.

"Arya! Please-"

He was too late.

* * *

Short again, yes, but better than nothing I guess. This is to keep those of you who thought it was nearly a happily-ever-after on your toes! Actually, now I think about it, I do want to own Eragon and the whole franchise, since I've dramatically reduced the amount in my bank account with all the stupid presents I've bought...damn you Paolini! Sitting in your luxury chair laughing at us mortals! :D

Before you go, I just wanted to say I hope you had a MERRY CHRISTMAS!! Yeah I'm two months late- sue me. Hope you spread the holiday cheer and that God blessed (...you with roast and chocolate and ice cream!). P. s, I saw Becks again!

Now for replies (people who don't expect one can go, but _pleeeease_ review first! Consider it your late Xmas present to me lol):

**bolkite**: I'm sure you'll be pleased to know I consider one of you my less pleasant reviewers. Thanks for all your reviews, but to be honest, I was under the impression of you possibly on substance while writing some of them. No I don't go from one crush to another, because I still like Beckham (and I do go on about him, but he is probably better looking than you) while I like Chuck, I have _never_ swooned after Paolini, only in terms of his work and his money. I write long A/N's, so deal with it. I'm happy with the constant reviewers that I _do_ have, their dedication means more to me than lots of random people dropping in every once in a while, although that's nice too.

**xLilypadsx**: Chuck/Sarah I can say, is the most engaging couple I have ever come across (not to mention adorable and sooo hot), and I've never been infatuated as much as I have been by the Chuck series. Maybe I'm just fascinated by the genre mix of action/comedy/romance which is all my favs rolled into one. I can provide you with links to the episodes ;D Hehe, blatant advertising.

**jkjkjkjkjkjk**: I do hope you're 'jk' joking about the intercourse. It's supposed to be a _progression_. I only have one thing to say to you: you fail at life.

**daum'bid**: It's okay, at least you've been reading it :) Plus I remember you reviewing a few chapters back at the start. Cheers!

**Macsek92**: Thanks for your review! You're Hungarian?? That's so cool! :D

**Squealing Lit. Fan**: Haha I kinda killed our email conversation ae? Sorry bout that. I'll pick it up soon. Btw I just updated a Charah fic along with this. You can harrass, but I might pretend to ignore you ;P (Update: I just sent out a new Chuck fic that I cheated on by stealing dialogue from the episode :D)

**Selonianth**: Dude just use your imagination! Saphira can fit with magic? I dunno. And for him leaving Alagaesia, it didn't say he had to straight after the Cycle, did it?


	13. Chapter 13: Impending Departure

Hm, I'm eating Havarti cream cheese and crackers right now, waiting for dad to pick me up for my physio appointment. Thank the wonderful NZ kai for fueling my mind enough to bother editing/posting this :) Sorry for keeping you hanging, but you should have expected it of me by now.

Maybe you want to look back to last chapter to re-familiarise yourself with the plot?

Oh and thanks to THOSE people who kept hounding me for another chapter, you know who you are. Put this up just to shut you up lol.

Disclaimer: Meh will NBC sell me _Chuck_ if I offer them _Eragon_? Chuck's much cuter :D

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**

_Impending Departure_

---

The days went past in a flash for the Elven princess, with none of the peacefulness and sereneness of before, leaving her ruffled as time passed.

The letter she sent to her mother in reply went and came back with speed, even though Islanzadi's summoning command was hardly a request.

It was with burning anger that Arya read her mother's response, which was to the point and just as blunt as the last. Arya could feel the authority in the queen's writing and the warning should Arya not follow her orders. She was informed that if she did not come willingly when the guards came to escort her in a few days, she would be 'forcibly removed' and Arya could tell that her life would be made miserable when she arrived back in Ellesmera.

She was found increasingly in her rooms and at her desk, with her head in her hands. Eragon had not tried to contact her ever since their last encounter, and their meetings were brief with they were required to acknowledge each other. They did not complete eye contact, not at meetings or at meals.

Arya supposed he was wary of her temper and displeasure at him. Contrary to what she told herself constantly, she missed his companionship much.

To tell the truth, she was not so much angry at his dissatisfaction at her rebelling against her mother, rather she was saddened at the fact that he did not want her company.

Arya sighed as she stood up, telling herself it was time to pack, knowing that it would be fruitless to oppose any further, especially since she had no backing; Eragon agreed with her mother.

When she looked around the spotless room, she felt a pang of sadness, this was like her home, she felt safe here, it even had her scent and personal touch to the place. Arya had decided to leave the fairths she had created and other personal belongings in the room, they were too heavy to bring, and if one day she came back to Vroengard, it would be comforting to be in a familiar place.

Deep in her heart, she hoped that this would not be the last time she would come back.

--

--

"Master Eragon!" Daiilan said in a ruffled voice, bending over to bow and looking thoroughly exhausted.

Eragon stopped speaking to his senior class, looking over to his right and seeing nobody, but hearing loud breaths looked down.

"Yes, Daiilan?"

Eragon waited for him to stand up and fix up his slightly disheveled appearance, before bringing him out of the room to the hallway.

"Master, you are needed in the official meeting chamber at once. The elves are here." The little messenger said.

Nodding, Eragon strode back into the class to leave directions with his students, before going out to Daiilan again.

After he thanked the boy, his pace quickened as he headed towards the north wing while Daiilan tried to keep up.

"Would you inform Lady Drottingnu of the arrival?" He asked over his shoulder.

Daiilan saluted jauntily and sped off in the opposite direction like any good messanger.

A few minutes later found Eragon standing in front of the dark wood doors to the chamber, straightening his tunic and hair.

He pushed open the door, revealing twenty warriors in total, dressed in grimy, tarnished travel-worn armour and bearing looks of muted awe as they stared at the crafted marble around the hall.

As Eragon stepped into the hall, they bowed in the elven fashion at once, lifting their fingers to their lips, some gesturing fealty, which was usually reserved for important royal nobles, and murmuring _Lord Shadeslayer._

He nodded to them, repeated the greeting, then spread his arms. "Welcome fellow brethren, may you find rest and clean yourselves after your journey before setting out once more."

The mature looking elf in the middle who introduced himself as Vailenr stepped forward, "Thank you for your hospitality, Lord Eragon, if it is fine with you, we will stay for four days and set off again."

Eragon nodded cordially, "Very well, I hope you will enjoy our facilities here, I will show you to your rooms, and I will assign a guide to show you the grounds, the pools, library and what you will find useful."

Vailenr nodded, looking glad at the sound of such luxuries, "I look forward to it."

After exchanging few more words, the door opened and Arya strode in.

Without making eye contact, she bowed to Eragon and both initiated their salutations before with a bit of stiffness welcomed her appointed guard. The guards bowed to her also, twisting their hands in greeting.

The large group set off along the castle, as they walked and passed students, they nodded to Eragon and the visitors in a continuing ripple down the hall.

While Eragon had exchanged words freely with Vailenr, finding him a worthy comrade one day, with Arya's new presence, it blocked his words and he could find nothing more to say.

Arya, for her efforts, vainly tried to make conversation, asking about her 'delightful' mother, and the situation in Ellesmera in her absence.

To everybody's relief, it was soon when they arrived at the guests hallway. Eragon showed the elves to their respective rooms, noting with satisfaction their looks of approval at their spacious rooms.

He informed them that he would send his boys to give them a tour of the castle shortly, and left them to wash themselves off.

An awkward and tense silence stood like a solid boulder between Arya and Eragon now that they were alone; one that seemed not even magic could penetrate.

Eragon shifted uncomfortably, tapping his foot, the sound echoing against the stone around them. Arya stared at an oh-so-intriguing mossy part of the wall.

They stood for a while, gazes averted.

When Eragon started, "I-", Arya seemed startled, before she interrupted him with a "I should go too".

With a quick excuse, she spun on her heel, her braid following her movement.

Eragon watched her quick gait, his lips downturned. As much as he hated it, he needed her to be safe.

Time was trickling by in a waterfall.

* * *

After re-reading and editing this, I realized how much I've grown as an author (although not in the way _Eragon_ is written. I think it's called 'diction'?). The _Chuck_ fandom really pushes you to write at your best, but except for glaring errors, I couldn't be bothered changing it any more.

What on earth has gone wrong with the line breaks?? The paragraphs are all crushed together!

Yeah, I know I talk about Chuck a lot, but it's really good! And plus, the season's over, so I may have more time for this fandom now.

JUST STUFF:

**X**: "_Are you crazy? we're waiting for months,MONTHS!! and you're posting 4 pages?:{_" Um yeah, that's what I thought too... shall I post three instead?

**GoldenPen246**: That may be, but keep in mind that it's not in her character to trust, so when someone gets close and she thinks they've betrayed her, I would think she would be cold and defensive.

**beneath the menoa tree**: Yup! The Ra'zac are gone, these ghosty things are just a random figment of my imagination.

**Skoobles**: Yeah, you should come check the Chuck fandom out! We're a fun bunch of peeps :D

**yummy food**: I don't want to because I haven't actually promised it was gonna end up Eragon/Arya.

**Selonianth**: Maybe, but it isn't specific WHICH task...

**Macsek92**: haha well this can be your... um, early 09 xmas present? Cool! I have a friend who's on German exchange at our school :P

**xLilypadsx**: argh, only bad thing about reviews- you gotta answer so many of em! Yep well here's another abusive chapter. I'm gonna consult with my people to see which episodes are the best for first timers and get back to ya :D Well, persistance pays off, I got this chappie up didn't I? And yup, don't mess with the Chuck fan! haha

**Arkillon**: Alive. More like half dead in the Eragon side, and fully functioning on the Chuck one..

**Nachan07**: Then you should come read some Chuck fics!!


	14. Chapter 14: If I Never See You Again

BAHAHA! I finally bother to post this chapter! This was supposed to be two chapters because it's the interlude + the departure but I couldn't be bothered to flesh the chapters out, and I had the feeling that people would complain again.

Oh and if you know anything about both Chuck and Eragon, well, Archillon and I have a very random conversation you can read :D

Disclaimer: blahblahblahblah... so… CHUCK'S RENEWED FOR A THIRD SEASON! :D

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen**

_If I Never See You Again_**  
**

---

Eragon barely saw Arya, or any of the elves for that matter, during the following days at the castle. They seemed to have the skill of drifting around undetected and their presence seemed to be invisible.

They merged well with the residents and only a few had the opportunity to get to know the quiet visitors when they talked about mutually enjoyed subjects.

Eragon had the feeling that they were just intimidated.

When they weren't exploring the gardens and hallways, his guests occasionally joined their council sessions, while Arya, despite her quarrel with Eragon, was still present regularly.

Even though outwardly, he seemed uncaring of the elves appearance at the castle, no one could see his dread at the day of their departure, taking Arya with them. She had been part of these few months so much that he had begun to take her for granted.

There had been, as Arya suspected, another reason to why he wanted her to leave, to go back to her home. But, as his faithful and very amused dragon put it, he was 'still in denial'. Eragon shook his head, brushing it off, that there was nothing there, Saphira was just looking too much into it.

He was doing the right thing. He _was_.

--

--

It was when Eragon awoke early one morning before daybreak, his face set in a frown, that he felt something was not right.

Troubled, he went through his usual routines of dressing and cleaning himself, only to be hit as he walked through the door from his chamber that with dismay, he realized that it was the fourth day.

The day Arya would be leaving.

Maybe he was in shock, because he couldn't figure out what exactly he was feeling. He didn't know _what _to feel.

No matter how he dreaded it, a message was sent to him an hour later, informing him that the elves would be departing shortly before breakfast.

Almost in an automatic mode, feeling rather lightheaded and distracted, he went about his duties. He should have anticipated the elves wanting an early departure, but for some reason, he had been in a state of denial.

Eragon sighed. This morning, he had been feeling like a sullen teenager, not the century-old age that he should have been.

Sulking, he rounded the corner, features stormy.

A pair of feet entered his vision, and his muscles shifted lightning quick to compensate for his overbalance as he stepped back abruptly to avoid a collision.

He looked up. Arya's face looked just as surprised as his did.

A flash of emotion later, there was nothing else he could deduce from her expression.

Looking down, she greeted him, fingers pressed to her lips.

Reciprocating the gesture, there was no way to avoid the other without seeming rude. Eragon was very aware of the students around him that watched him, and forced himself to seem at ease with his companion.

The two walked on silently.

_Go on, tell her you did not mean what you said about not wanting her,_ Saphira urged.

Eragon groaned inwardly, of all times Saphira had to remind him of that incident; she had to choose this one.

_I can sense her hurt feelings, Eragon, no matter how well she is trying to hide them._ His dragon continued, _It is hard to hide anything from a dragon._

_But she will ask for the real reason then! What shall I tell her?_ Eragon shot back, challenging her. He could not stop his feeling of annoyance creep through their link.

_Tell her the truth from your heart, my dear._

Saphira made it sound all so easy.

Eragon sighed inside his head_, If only I knew what was inside my heart, Saphira._

_Ah,_ came her sage advice. She did not hide the amused mockery in her tone. _We have found the real problem, little one._

He did not respond.

_Even if you do not love her, at least settle the peace between the two of you and regain your friendship… for the sake of political relations, if not to sate your own conscience. _She said gently, now serious. _Think on it. That is all I ask._

She touched his mind gently with her love. Eragon felt the contact like a real feeling, as if she was beside him and had used her snout. He understood: this was his own decision.

His mind was deeply troubled for the first time in many years. This was the first time after all the women he had been acquainted with, that he truly cared about resurrecting the friendship lost after the relationship fell through.

But this was Arya.

After all, they had a past, and that made all the difference. She had been part of his life so long, and during Galbatorix's reign, her life had been so intertwined with his, that he owed it to her, and to their long standing affection to make things right.

It was true that the bond he and Arya had was nothing short of special. It had been easily rekindled even after all the years they had gone their separate ways.

Laying down his pride and drawing on his courage that had carried him through many trials, Eragon stopped, pulling lightly on Arya's arm when they reached an unoccupied corridor.

She stopped, looking at him quizzically.

"Arya- "

She held up a slim hand, determining what he wanted to discuss by the pitch of his voice in that one word.

"Just don't." She kept on walking, pulling her sleeve out of his grasp roughly.

Eragon watched her walk away, eyes fixed on her back.

"I'm sorry."

Those two words, though spoken softly- echoed eerily throughout the hall.

Arya stopped. He could read the tension in the rigid line of her back.

Eragon kept on speaking, "You mistook my words from that day. It was not my intention to leave you with the impression that I did not value your own wishes and opinion about Queen Islanzadi's orders."

There was a long silence. This was it; Eragon could not explain any further his case.

She spoke, her voice detached. Her gaze was set firmly on the distant window at the end of the hall. "Then for what reason did you want me to leave your side?"

Questioned further, and unwilling to pour out his soul for her, however much he wanted to reveal his intentions, Eragon could not find an answer. The stakes were too high, her safety was much more important than good terms between them.

She needed to leave. And Arya was not making it easy for him to ensure that fact, and also apologizing for it.

Eragon had to make sure she left. If he spilled the heartfelt apology he had composed in his head, and explained his motivations for acting the way he had, she would surely stay.

This was for her.

His heart was beating unnaturally loudly. He was afraid that the she elf in front of him could hear it also.

"I…"

His mouth was horribly dry. Eragon could tell what was going to happen with his inability to find the needed words to explain without giving away too much.

Unable to look at her face to gain any hint of her thoughts, Eragon could only see the way her shoulders lowered the slightest degree.

"Please do not insult me, Lord Eragon. I know what is in your heart."

Emotion was threatening to leak into her voice. To avoid any loss of dignity, Arya stepped away from him, intending to escape.

Just before she stepped out of earshot, he spoke.

"Do you really?"

--

--

They assembled on the dock where a magnificent ship awaited the departing elves.

The council stood somberly. News of the unknown entity traveling across Alagaesia spread quickly through channels between the ruling factions of the land.

Eragon stood apart from them, watching the formal farewells, already having said his goodbyes to the elves and wishing them a safe journey home to the great forest.

Eragon beckoned his Rider over, whose unwilling apprentice was to be left on Vroengard while he escorted the visitors per Islanzadi's request.

"You will travel by air, watch and scout for them. Land and camp when they rest at nightfall. My orders, but use your own discretion when it is prudent. Once your duty is complete, make your way as fast as possible back to us, we may need to extra experience here if we are under danger."

Clasping his hand on the younger man's shoulder, he asked just to make sure, "You know the way there and back; I have brought you to Ellesmera before."

At the man's nod, Eragon also rested a hand on the forest green dragon's side briefly before nodding at them approvingly.

The pair bowed and departed towards the boat to run a last check.

By the time Eragon had finished, the elves were all onboard.

To his surprise, Arya still stood on land. She watched him.

Gathering himself, he approached her.

Eragon spoke, his voice subdued, "I have enjoyed your company these past months, Princess Drottingnu. I wish you a safe travel and hope you will visit us again once the danger has passed." He wished to say more. There was so much he needed to express, _too_ much- he could not choose just a single thing to say.

When he did not continue, Arya replied. Her eyes were not on Eragon's but the mountainous background beside his head.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Lord Shadeslayer, and for your generosity for housing my fellow elves." She said curtly. There were no personal farewells.

The listeners fidgeted awkwardly, unknowingly affected by the aura of tension around the two.

In a dreamlike sequence of events, with one last nod, Arya turned away, heading for the ship.

Eragon watched her go, face impassive and his posture painfully stiff.

The elves gave one parting wave before the boat cast off towards the mainland, a strong wind in their sails.

He did not turn around as he stalked back toward the castle.

* * *

Okay, so Eragon was on TV tonight. It's worse than I thought it was. Which really is saying something. Maybe they had a small budget, because the individual talent for acting was plenty.

Anyway, I read over this, was too cheesy and out of character, so I moved things round a bit. Mehe, this is the result of me actually editing, and paying attention to what I post.

Well, this is the usual length I post pretty much, good to get back into relatively proper chapters. Too bad I'm finding it hard to write longer chapters for Chuck. And no, whoever it was that asked, I don't want to forget about Chuck, it's my main focus.

**xrysalida**: Well, you managed to remind me to update, completely forgot :) Last chapter had to be short for this one to work.

**E-J99**: Good guess.

**Sara Hally**: It HAS been decades since the war, so I guess it's okay for Arya to be softer. Oh by the way, my 'little fantasy world'? Yeah, it's found on the world map under Australia and a little to the right

**Galby wears pink undies;-)**: Uh, haven't got anything so say except, thanks, and I love the name you reviewed with :P


	15. B tch fest

Okay, so seriously? I've had enough of people complaining about the length of chapters. It's not everyone, just a few. I understand you want a longer story to read because I don't post every other day, but as I've explained countless times already, the scenes are .SHORT. I've already stretched what I can do with those scenes to their largest limits. I can't possibly condense events that happen over weeks into one huge long chapter. That's just ridiculous.

I think I'm just going to start posting one liners for each chapter now. Keep in mind that this fic is ongoing just because of the dedication of specific reviewers who have been here since the beginning, not because I'm still involved in the Eragon fandom.

Sorry for the complaint, this is the first one I have ever done, but it couldn't be helped.

Apart from that, I appreciate the awesome reviewing and the critiques that are actually _helpful_, going on here, thanks so much.

You don't need to reply to this unless you have some random urge to.

The next chapter will be up... sometime. Nagging is fine. NOT pestering.

That is all.


	16. Chapter 15: Are We the Waiting

Yep, sorry for the wait. But you're probably used to it by now anyway.

Thanks for all the support, it's very much appreciated. Especially the ones who commented on my last post that I have never seen review before.

So, this is for xLilypadsx who convinced me to update. Hope you haven't left yet, so you can read this before you go.

**Green Day**- _Are We the Waiting _

Mangled it to fit in with the story :D Chapter would have been a lot longer, but I wanted to update sooner.

Disclaimer: same as last time..

* * *

**Chapter 15**

Are We the Waiting

---

_Are we we are, are we we are the waiting unknown  
This dirty town was burning down in my dreams  
Lost and found city bound in my dreams_

--

The days Arya spent traveling seemed to melt into a delusion.

_Do you?_

When her mind was the most vulnerable, no matter how she tried to forget it, Eragon's parting words whirled in her mind, so much so that she was tempted to run back to him and pry the meaning from his mind until he was stone cold and dead.

She shook her head stubbornly, trying to rid those foolish thoughts. He had been in her mind often lately, surfacing in her dreams- whenever she let her guard down. Frustratingly, every sentence she spoke seemed to link _somehow_ back to him, causing her restlessness and sleepless nights.

She just couldn't forget it.

What did he mean?

And apart from that secret, there seemed to be another that caused her companions to edge around her, somber, reticent.

The tension broke by the second week, Arya finally fed up enough with the secrecy; that everyone seemed to know something that she didn't.

Standing abruptly, she set her chin firmly, marching across the makeshift campsite.

Stopping in front of Vailenr, she tapped impatiently on her sheath, demanding his attention.

He looked up, surprised, touching two fingers to his lips. "Princess Arya."

Barely keeping a lid on her irritable temper that seemed to be welling up frequently these passing days, she ground her foot into the dirt ground in a show of irritation.

"What is it that you are keeping from me?" She asked, her eyes stone cold as she stared directly at him. "There must be a reason we left so hastily from Vroengard. What does my mother want, summoning me back to the forest with such urgency?"

With a dark glance at the rest of her guard, she shot a warning glance at the unfortunate soul she was interrogating.

"Tell me the truth. I am warning you, I have much more authority than I have shown you thus far. I have gone with you with the least amount of resistance, but I am not afraid of overturning my mother's will if the need should arise."

Vailenr looked around the clearing, beseeching for help. He did not have any support. He was the highest ranked in their retrieval group, the others, in any case, looked too intimidated by Arya's legendary temper to speak out of line.

Taking a deep breath, he chose his words tactfully. "I cannot reveal anything, under express orders from Queen Islanzadi and the will of Lord Shadeslayer," He looked apologetic as he added, "Forgive me."

Arya pursued her lips tightly, eyes narrowing slightly as her mind worked quickly. "So, my mother, and Eragon- they are together in this plan?" She looked curious.

Just as Vailenr thought she would back off, she pinned him to the spot again. "You speak of this situation as if it is dangerous knowledge… as if the two of them thought that if I were kept in the dark and misinformed, I would go along willingly to their plans and run away from whatever peril Vroengard may have coming."

"It is. It is classified knowledge."

Livid, Arya unconsciously played with the hilt of her sword, her fingers seeming to remind everyone that she was competent, that- "I have fought in the War of Galbatorix. I helped liberate Alagaesia from the most treacherous tyrant this land has seen," She looked around at the faces watching her, "And yet, I am treated as a lesser woman?"

Vailenr's noble face faltered slightly. His lord had warned him of the Princess's obstinacy prior to his departure, and indeed, he had heard of the marvelous exploits of this warrior alongside all of the Shadeslayer's accomplishments, but now, faced with her full determination, his own centuries of experience seemed to pale in comparison.

But- he was the one entrusted by the Queen, by the commander, to protect the princess and ensure her safety during her travels. It was a large honour. Even for one who had been honoured already, with the amount of troops given to him to lead back in the Elven lands.

"My princess, that is understood-"

She interrupted him promptly, her facial expression softening slightly in acknowledgment to his given mission, and his promise to see it through.

-as much as she admired his loyalty, she had more to worry about.

"I need to know what is happening. Enlighten me, or I will be…very difficult to escort. I will make your lives hard indeed," Arya said coldly. Defiantly, she crossed her arms across her chest, head proudly held high and neck arched gracefully.

Vailenr struggled for a moment between conflicting interests, his shoulders slumping soon after. He knew just how rebellious Arya could become from her younger years in Ellesmera.

Letting out a large breath, he looked up at the crystal sky, in the early day, everything shimmering, clear, fresh, new.

Looking eyes with Arya, his gaze conveyed his seriousness as he spoke, "These strangers. They have been reported to have powers beyond our knowledge, but we are unsure of the level of that power. Whether it can overcome the strength of Alagaesia's finest, it is yet unknown because they are glimpsed rarely."

With a hint of dread, he continued slowly, "But the destruction of villages they have left behind- it says much about their intentions. No one has seen their faces, due to the black cloak they don."

He paused, wondering how much more to reveal.

"Riders... had been sent out to investigate the moment the word had gotten to Lord Eragon. And, two days into our stay at Vroengard, we elves were summoned to a clandestine meeting with him, the officials, his spies and his most trusted Riders…"

Arya held up a hand, "Why was I not similarly informed?"

Vailenr averted his eyes, looking uncomfortable. "I do not know, princess."

Peering intently at him, she decided he had no honest idea- simply following his mandate. She folded her legs and lowered herself to the ground, noting the rest of their company busy setting up camp around them, and only then, noticing the ward that had been conjured around their conversation to keep eavesdroppers away.

"Continue."

Vailenr closed his eyes, "It seems that, as the spies revealed, the entities are purposely heading for the Riders. That, is why you were ushered from the vicinity as urgently as possible, my lady."

Silence enveloped them as Arya traced the dirt in front of her in abstract shapes, pondering the new information.

Raising her eyes, her features were grave.

"Do they pose a serious threat to the Riders?" She questioned.

Opening his mouth, he averted his gaze, as if guilty for helping Arya run away from the danger, against her wishes had she known the gravity of the situation.

"…there are factors to be confirmed: the number of Riders that remain on Vroengard or can return in time, whether they wish for entire decimation or whether they simply want Shadeslayer, we don't know-"

His rambling was cut off again by Arya, who interjected sharply, "Are. They. Dangerous?" She stressed each word with a low forceful voice, eyes hard like flint as she contemplated her next move.

A beat.

"Lord Shadeslayer believes they are."

Arya did not reply, instead seeming to have her mind made up.

--

_And screaming  
Are we we are, are we we are the waiting  
And screaming  
Are we we are, are we we are the waiting_

_Forget me nots and second thoughts live in isolation  
Heads or tails and fairytales in my mind  
Are we we are, are we we are the waiting unknown  
The rage and love, the story of my life  
The Jesus of suburbia is a lie_

--

The rest of the evening was spent in relative silence, as the elves rested.

When the camp was silent and settled, dark lumps of elves reclining around the campfire, Arya, merely a lithe figure, a shadow in the dark, stood just outside the small enclosure.

"Princess."

Whipping around quickly, her eyes rested on the alert form of Vailenr that materialised behind her from the blackness of the forest. She cursed under her breath.

"Lord."

With a small smile, he shook his head, "I knew this would happen. I saw it in your eyes. Therefore I took first post."

Her hand on the small dagger at her back, she got ready to launch herself at him, intending to knock him out.

Vailenr's eyes watched her cautiously, his weight resting evenly between his feet, clearly anticipating any attack. She had overlooked his cleverness; he had not gotten so esteemed in warrior circles with luck alone.

"I cannot let you go," He called out quietly to her, "As a fellow soldier, I would not desert a fight either. But, you are the heir to the throne. I am kept to my word, under oath, to bring you back to Ellesmera."

Like a predator, she circled him, looking almost- excited, eyes bright, reveling at a challenge against an evenly matched opponent.

There was a rustle to the right at that exact moment, and his eyes flickered to it, instantly protective of his charge.

It was his undoing. If he had not placed Arya's safety paramount, focusing his attention on possible enemy -as he should- he _would_ have been a good match.

In a blur of movement, she flew toward him, the hilt of her weapon connecting squarely against Vailenr's temple.

He crumpled soundlessly, just as the source of the noise crawled out.

Almost fondly, Arya thanked the rodent before she hefted Vailenr over her shoulder, propping him up securely inside the numerous wards.

She easily slipped through them herself, the spells letting her past as they recognized her presence as one of the casters of the magic.

Creeping quietly to the food stores, she wrapped some sustenance enough for herself, wedging it into her ready packed travel bag. Meticulously, she used oiled linen to securely muffle the sound of her sword and sheath so it would not make noise while she ran.

Breathing deeply, the princess gathered a ball of green energy. Holding it in her palm, with one powerful ancient word, she set the elves to a long magically enhanced sleep. Stepping out of the clearing for the last time, she made sure to set additional barriers around her fellows. She did not want them to be harmed during her absence, no matter how much their orders clashed against her own plans.

With that done, she did not glance back once, as she set off over the tangled landscape.

--

_And screaming  
Are we we are, are we we are the waiting  
And screaming  
Are we we are, are we we are the waiting unknown  
Are we we are, are we we are the waiting  
And screaming  
Are we we are, are we we are the waiting unknown  
Are we we are, are we we are the waiting unknown_

--

With a jolt, Eragon was awakened from his sleep by the sonorous bellow from the horns that had surely been sounded at each of the guard postings.

The sound rattled his eardrums, and set his heart thundering. Feeling the hairs raise on his cold skin, he sat up, mentally preparing himself.

_They were here._

* * *

Wooo! Ice Age 3 is awesome! :)

**Galby wears pink undies;-)**: A Chuck fan! Yay.

**Sara Hally**: No. I am not 'a typing dolphin'. Repetitive? How so? One encounter is Eragon trying to apologize, the other is a goodbye. Emotional action- the tone of that chapter was somber, any more excitement would be out of character and over the top.

**Archillon Shadeslayer**: Don't know whether I made the one month mark, but Chuck has super gadgets to restrain a drunk Saphira.

**The Other Place**: This isn't a fluffy story. Or cheesy. But thanks!

**Sharan**: Saphira isn't my main focus. She has small cameos in this story. More of her doesn't add to the story in any way. Plus, I've never been fond of all the fawning given to the oh-so-glorious dragons.

**football'sbetter**: I have watched the game before. I still stand by my view, even though it's a comment from two years ago so may be a bit immature. You're biased when you say it's the 'greatest sport ever invented', all sportspeople are, including me. Soccer is the more popular sport worldwide.

**frappefreak11**: the story is not finished yet, so it doesn't mean the students won't get a larger role. Thanks for both reviews :)


	17. Chapter 16: And so it Begins

Hey, new update! You should all thank EmeraldArya for reminding me (and quite a few others). I got a bit carried away with my new Chuck fic :) I'm doing with it what I did for this fic which managed to this one finished, in an attempt to not ditch my stories halfway: wing it!

Notice anything different? This is the product of a total rewrite. Kind of anyway. I should do it more often, it's better than the original, I think (and a bit longer!).

Disclaimer: This is the sixteenth time I've had to say Eragon isn't mine. I think everyone gets the point.

* * *

-

**Chapter Sixteen**

_And so it begins._

-

At the speed at which she covered the land, it took Arya less than the original time it had taken since she'd left this port with her elven guard, to reach it again.

The water was murky today, green and unfathomable, darkness in the depths, the sea level swelling unnaturally high for the waves to lap at the rickety length of planking that jutted out from the wharf.

With a feeling of trepidation, still wary of the fury and unpredictable power of the ocean, she pulled the thick cloak tighter around her body, both terrified and entranced by the movements of the tide, unable to tear her gaze away.

The vessel which would take her over the channel, to Vroengard sat complacently, bobbing gently up and down, looking comfortable amidst the tempestuousness.

Instinctively looking behind her, Arya narrowed her eyes. She'd felt something lurking ever since she had arrived in town.

It could not be the elves. She would sense their approach early before she would see them. And she had not received any sign of pursue from them yet, but could not help glancing back occasionally on the way here, feeling slightly guilty and expecting them to reveal themselves sooner than she wished.

She highly doubted they would, the people of the land had been generous in lodgings and she had yet to encounter the creatures that Vailenr described.

A gust of heavy wind blew through her hair, the chill creeping down from her neck, raising goose bumps along her spine.

Quietly, she stepped back into the shadows of the alley behind her as she pressed her back against the wall, breathing in slowly, cautiously as inaudible as possible.

Tensing her muscles, but keeping still, ready to defend herself if needed, Arya watched intently. Her ears perked up as a sound of fabric rustling carried over the wind.

An icy feeling seeped into her bones as the tall creatures pass her vision, she held her breath; power radiated from them, seeming to paralyse her thoughts, and her limbs.

The wind whipped a black hood back, but all she could see was pallid grey skin as he calmly lifted it back up to obscure his head again.

Barely pausing, they proceeded to the waters edge without hesitation, and her eyes widened as the first of the creatures glide onto the water. She waited for him to sink, or for some sign of magic, but he stays just above the surface as if he were a puppet held up with strings, swaying a little as the waves catch the bottom of his garment.

The silhouettes of the group blur as they depart from the range of what she could see. The air felt like sludge as she moved slowly through the vestiges of the effect the strangers cast over the small seaside town, deathly silent- even though it was midnight- as if it were empty of inhabitants.

Looking around, Arya made her way swiftly to the boat, calling to the captain. He emerged from deep inside, nodding gravely as she dropped several silver coins into his palm.

Dread clawed inside her chest as she looked out over the horizon at the black speck in the distance. The crew cast off and set the sails, as she stood unmoving at the prow of the vessel.

_Wait for me, Eragon._

-

His fears were confirmed a second later as a sonorous ring blasts from the warning horn.

Swearing, he fell out of the bed, struggling to untangle himself from the sheets, his fingers scrabbling for his sword from the bedside table from the ground simultaneously.

He stumbled from his bedroom chamber, Tirian waiting for him, an under tunic already in his hands.

"Good boy," Eragon said distractedly as it was pulled over his head, followed by another soft leather layer.

A second warning sounded, and grabbing his bracers and greaves himself, he put them in place while his servant tugged firmly on the straps of his burnished mail and belt.

As soon as his sapphire tunic was pulled overtop, a personal crest emblazoned across the chest, he dashed out of the room, bent over trying to step into his boots, sword tucked under one arm, and battered dwarf-made helmet hooked precariously onto his fingers as he rotated his shoulders, trying to make the metal and hauberk slide into place.

_I am waiting on the wall_, Saphira interjected gently into his preoccupied mind.

Barely making any noise, testament to Tirian's care of his armour, Eragon came to an abrupt halt at the lowest step as he reached the dormitories, eyes wide at the chaos.

Students fell over each other wrestling with their tunics as they bumped into walls trying to find their masters.

"Halt!"

The entire commotion froze instantaneously. Surveying them critically, he softened his voice.

"Apprentices, finish dressing your masters. Riders, bring your apprentice to the halls. Knights," He nodded at the chosen few, already in full regalia, "Come with me."

Without looking around, he walked through the waves parting before him as the noise level rose again while a patrolman updated him hastily of the situation.

The large hall was still empty, except for the trembling initiates, still in their sleep clothes. They scrambled to attention, serious expressions on their childish faces.

"Little ones," He said, beckoning one of his men forward, "Follow Geoff. He will show you to the lower chambers for your safety. Stay quiet until he comes for you again."

They run out just as his Riders trickle in, their apprentices close at their heels.

Directing his attention to the straight rows of his knights at full attention, he simply nods, "Take up your posts while I organize your peers."

They knock their fist against their shield before they march out, faces set into marble as they draw their swords, a fearsome sight.

Eragon turns back to the rest of the riders, in various colours and emblems, as they watch the departure of the knights in envy, at the symbol of their status engraved into the back of their helmet.

When he had their full attention, the apprentices in their master's colours, he made them count off to confirm full attendance.

Uneasy, he tried to keep his trepidation from his expression as he issued his orders.

"Our guests are a half hour away. We have been told their numbers are not overwhelming, but do not underestimate their strength." Crossing his arms, he continues, "I have never seen their kind of magic before."

_They come._ Saphira reported. _Approaching fast. _

"Go to your assigned groups and meet your dragon," He crooked a finger at the apprentices, "You will stay in the castle as archers unless you must engage."

"May your swords be sharp and quick. Airborne," He raised his hand. The third warning echoed across the island. "Follow me. Fall out!"

With light signaling all positions ready, Eragon tingled with nervous anticipation, quick breaths foggy in the night air.

"Steady!" He bellowed, "Wait for my signal."

-

"_**Attack**__!" The order rippled down the lines and the Riders surged forth as one._

-

As soon as the ship was anchored, Arya leapt off, leaving the fare on the deck.

She could hear sounds of fighting, and the unmistakable sound of ringing metal reverberating in the hills that faced her. The mist floated eerily over the choppy waters, and a ghostly hush descended around her immediate area.

Glancing down, she could not make out any footsteps from the hooded creatures, but here and there were signs of some shuffling.

The sound of a dragon shrieking distracted her, and she snapped to attention again. Ignoring the long way that she had still to go, she dropped her bag safely under a leafy plant, covering it with bark to keep the contents dry.

After checking the ties of her scabbard once more, she broke into a loping run, her eyes fixed on the sky licked red by flames.

-

_Eragon!_

With a wild cry, he slashed across hard, turning his cheek just in time as warm blood flecks sprayed in an arc in the air from the gash he bestowed onto his opponent.

_Busy. _

Saphira looked through his eyes for a moment, curious. _Hmmpf_. She sent him a nauseating picture of her own work smugly.

_Are you hurt? _She asked, as a brief flash of panic flitted across the link, Eragon dodging a blow just in time.

_I'm fine. _

_Good._ Saphira tore a sizable chunk off an approaching enemy's head. _It's worse than we anticipated, _she commented_, they are quite skilled. Their magic is one I have not encountered, but it is weak. Their only strong magic is the ability to levitate themselves. _

Her words became disjointed for a moment, but she continued.

_But I shall take care of that_, she said before springing into the air with a huge flap of her wings, sending discarded swords and shields flying.

_We are losing our Riders,_ Saphira commented from the air, looking down at the combat, _but our Knights are hanging on. These creatures are very fast. The fighting is sporadic; it will end soon. We have many wounded. Our numbers have kept the enemy from finishing them off, fortunately. _

_Keep me informed,_ Eragon asked, before jogging off to assist a wounded soldier.

_Very well,_ Saphira said, _Fight well, Eragon._

Laying the man down to rest with his healed side, Eragon looked up to see a talented fighter whipping through his riders with ease.

_Fight well, be fierce_, He returned.

-

There was a scene of utter devastation when Arya burst from the forest into the clearing, hair in disarray and leaves stuck to her tunic.

Riders were strewn across the ground, only a few still in their death, the rest pale and nursing grievous wounds.

Desperate fighting was condensed in front of the castle's main gates, the thick wooden slabs darkened with ash, and dented from numerous assaults, still held true.

Dragons wheeled around the sky, unable to help the fighters in fear of hurting a friend. The enemy was grounded, the dragons marking their territory as they roared, trees bending from the force of their breath.

From her position, she could see Saphira's form, dark blue in the night sky, illuminated scales sleek against the moon's glow. Her scorching blue flames lit the air, and she dove, mouth open, a charred line of repulsive corpses lying in her wake.

Parrying back and forth were the knights, steering the combat away from those injured as the Riders fought together against one foe. The enemy barely used magic, but seemed immune to any that the riders cast, as they waved the spell away like an annoying insect.

Looking around, her heart sunk at the few number of black cloaks thrown unceremoniously around, bodies marked with dragon teeth or a straight blade. The enemy was clearly a match for the Riders.

Her eyes glanced upward again, heart leaping as a pair of gleaming claws unsheathed, picking up a defenseless enemy who had been about to strike at the knight on the ground.

She raised her fist in the air, shouting triumphantly to the dragon as he dropped his load mercilessly at her feet.

Kicking him to make sure he was dead, Arya used her sword to lift the hood, letting it slump to the floor in disgust at the creatures grey skin and blue tattoo that reached down their neck, their cloak cutting off the rest of the picture.

To her surprise, the enemy was beautiful. High foreheads and proud noses, like the elves. Their ethereal loveliness drew her attention, and she could not avert her gaze from the open electric blue eyes as she reached forward, captivated by the chanting that murmured coaxingly in her ears, mesmerizing in a foreign language.

A particularly loud clang reached her ears. Instinctively, she looked towards it, her eyes leading her to the battlements, broken from the powerful urge that drew her towards the body.

Her hand had started moving again on its own accord- her mind dizzyingly hazy.

"Don't!"

Someone slammed into her from the side, and she lurched to the ground, steadying herself with her offending hand on the log.

Straightening, she was instantly on her guard, ready to defend herself in an instant.

"Why?" She asked the rider standing in front of her, his expression relieved she hadn't touched the corpse.

"Once a living person touches them," He explained, waving his hand, magic crackling to surround the body with dirt to avoid any more unfortunate encounters, "It gives them life again. They rise and fight."

Arya stared at the mound of dirt, "How can that be?" She asked, mostly to herself, "That is certainly troubling."

"Indeed," The man said gravely, "We must be cautious."

With a small thankful smile, Arya turned away from the sight of the enemy, scanning the site, "Where is Eragon?"

He was about to answer before a particularly hard clang of metal rang clear like a fork on glass flute resounded over the landscape.

Arya's attention was drawn towards a high tower where two figures fought in an intense battle at the top.

Glimmering blond hair confirmed it was Eragon as he executed a maneuver she had once been on the receiving end of.

Neither had a hand over the other that she could see, but not about to leave that theory to be tried, she headed urgently for the battlements to reach the stairs leading up to the tower.

She clenched her hand around her sword, seriousness in her eyes as she cut a lethal swathe through the opposition, leaving behind a host of dead bodies.

Her body twisted in a lethal, agile dance, sliding, whirling through her opposition as her slender weapon moved with its owner, flashing with reflected light off the lit torches that were stabbed into the ground.

Ignoring the relieved cries of the riders around her, rushing with a renewed effort seeing the many she fell, Arya dashed up the spiraling staircase, looking despairingly at the many remaining floors she still had yet to ascend.

Finally at the platform that led into the open air, she grasped the door handle and flung it wide open.

There on the balcony was Eragon and an unknown competitor, exchanging a flurry of blows, as he was driven closer and closer to the edge.

Eragon's eyes widened in surprise as he caught a glimpse of her, but his attention was quickly diverted again, his opponent refusing to give him any leeway or time to rally himself as he began the systematical offense anew, testing Eragon's defenses.

The two circled each other with their swords held up defensively, Eragon trying to get closer to her at an attempt to steer the enemy away from her.

A shocked gasp came from Arya when Eragon finally came closer, the other man directly opposite them.

Both fighters disengaged to look at her, stepping a safe distance apart.

Her voice, trembling and unsteady, came out in a hushed whisper.

"_Faolin_?"

* * *

Ah, what do we think about this chapter?

You know what? When I think of Faolin, I get an image of Legolas/Orlando Bloom :) Now I'm not so against Arya/Faolin.

-

**EmeraldArya**: "..out of fear of receiving a scathing reply, I, for one, enjoy reading your responses." Haha I like practicing my sarcasm, well if you want to be amused, read on then!

**Anonymous**: Nope, once you get reminded a lot about updating, you'll understand that nagging is happy 'reminding' taken on by friendly reviewers, and pestering is just someone being annoying and snotty who demand updates in a rather rude fashion.

**Tabitha**: I don't understand your reasoning? Arya is pretty stubborn so she'd refuse to comply either way. Plus she DID 'overtake her her escort through magic or combat". But it is a good point that she'd use the 'duty' card to get the information.

**frappefreak11**: lol, good guess about "Arya appearing at a crucial point in a fight ".

**Wolf Howls Echo Thru Stillness**: "How come Arya gets offended so easily?" Dunno, maybe she's worried about Eragon and the fact that EVERYONE is keeping a secret from her even though she's an experienced warrior and princess?

**Archillon Shadeslayer** : NAH! I don't even KNOW what UFC is, so soccer's better! Lol.

**stellour**: first- I'm not a man. Second- I post when I feel like posting or when I remember. Third- please don't tell me 'just correct that'. The riders aren't all human, just because I don't describe which riders have pointy ears or not doesn't mean they aren't there. It's not important to the main story, is it?

-

Ah isn't it nice to talk to all? Most of you anyway.

Am I imposing? I was going for imposing. Gold star for whoever knows the reference :)


	18. AN

Hey guys, this is just a quick note to make sure you guys know I haven't given up on this fic. Due to… "recent pressure" from a few of you, I've finally got my act together and I'm currently fixing up the next chapter :)

So just, yeah… lol hang on… but then again, you have had a lot of practice at that!

Thanks for sticking with me for so long, gosh, how long has it been, a year? Two?

I'm actually very humbled by the amount of reviews because I know this fandom usually isn't that giving with those!

Haha so see you later! Hopefully I'll update soon!

-FL


	19. Chapter 17: Love and War

Phew. I re-wrote this chapter too. Took so long, and it's not even a proper job of editing! You would not believe how cheesy the original was. Can't believe what I was thinking when I first wrote it. Hopefully it's less OOC now.

Wow, out of curiosity, I revisited my older fics that have been on hiatus for ages, like _Inevitable Fate_ and _Where the Heart Is_, and I am completely blown away but the number of reviews on them! As of now, I'm not prepared to release anymore chapters of either of them, but I'd just like to say the support for them has been overwhelming. I don't understand why it's so popular, because I rather think they're kind of hokey, even though the premise of _Where the Heart Is_ makes me very tempted to pick it up again.

Oh, and **chasingfireflies** gets the gold star for the very obvious Chuck reference :D

Hope you enjoy :)

Disclaimer: …I don't really want to own Eragon anymore.

* * *

-

**Chapter Seventeen**

_Love and War_

-

Eragon's eyes widened with Arya's words. His eyes shifted to the elf next to him with both curiosity and dread.

"It is I, Arya," Said Faolin in a low murmur. Ignoring Eragon, he walked past his adversary's sword without the slightest hint of fear to stand in front of Arya.

Arya's face was pale, her skin sallow and a ghostly white. Her voice shook as she reached out with one hand to touch Faolin's arm, flinching when she met solid, warm flesh. "How did this come to be? You were killed on that fateful day when Durza and his Urgals shot you through with an arrow!" She looked away, and Eragon saw the glistening of unshed tears, "I saw with my own eyes…"

Faolin's smooth face was unnaturally kind; it sent a shiver of apprehension through Eragon's body. He clenched his fist tighter around the pommel of _Brisingr_, his instincts screaming at him to intervene.

Saphira's tone was scornful as she spoke warnings into his mind, reminding him of Faolin's affiliation with these monsters that were slaughtering the Riders.

Eragon set his jaw, wondering whether to be unsportsmanlike and run Faolin through his back. Before he could lift his hand against the other man, Faolin stepped closer to Arya so that his mail brushed against her tunic. Eragon stiffened when he saw the elf stroke her cheek with a long finger.

"I never died, my love. Galbatorix's men left me upon the ground, as they were sure I was dying. I have been traveling far over these decades protecting you without your knowledge. Only now I have mustered a force to defeat these Rider tyrants to find you. I am sorry." Faolin said, his face hardened at the mentioned of the Riders, and he shifted noticeably so that Eragon was in his line of sight.

"But why now? Why did you not reunite us earlier?" Arya asked, looking more vulnerable that Eragon had ever seen her. "And Eragon, he is no tyrant. He has only given me the most gracious treatment all the years I have known him."

Faolin did not speak, and Eragon narrowed his eyes at his attempt to evade Arya's question- instead the elf took Arya into his arms. Eragon looked away. A horrible nauseous feeling rose through his body and he stood stiffly alike a marble statue that stood in the Dwarven council chambers.

No matter how hard Eragon tried to prevent his low murmur, Faolin's voice drove its way inside Eragon's skull, "You were my heart and my soul, Arya. Do you still love me as I do you? Is the fiery passion that flew through our veins so many years ago still lie potent within you? Tell me, please."

Eragon turned his head slightly to watch Arya's suddenly determined gaze.

Faolin rested his forehead against hers and Arya lifted her head to join their lips gently, her hands coming to his chest, her eyes closed.

The Rider took a step forward, intending to leave the duo, his chest twisting painfully. As if his movement awoke Arya's attention, the elf princess slowly drew away.

"Faolin," She breathed, still in her former lover's arms, "I have awaited your return for many long years, and over these years I experienced new things, met new people…"

Eragon froze. Faolin looked expectant.

She continued, attention fixed on the man in front of her. "My feelings for you were unadulterated and true in our younger days, those feelings remain as a fondness and happiness when I remember our times together…but I have moved on, Faolin-vor, I have made peace with our past, and although you still have a place in my heart, and you will always be a part of me- I have found someone special, I have a deep bond and an understanding with, who knows me well, accepts my flaws and loves me for them."

Eragon's heart leapt unashamedly, even though it may have been false hope. His eyes flicked to Faolin, who looked incensed, his eyebrows fiercely sharp and expression staggered.

In a split second, even before Eragon could react, Faolin pushed Arya away roughly, sending her stumbling backwards into a wall, reeling. She slid against the cold stone before dropping onto her knees.

Arya looked dazed, her hand reaching to the back of her head. When her fingers reappeared, it was disconcerting to see the vivid scarlet of fresh blood tainting her fingertips.

Faolin's face was in shadow, but his voice was deadly when he spoke. "You are foolish, Arya. I would have made you my Queen, of Alagaesia and of the extinct Riders. You have offended my mercy and you shall pay for your poor decision."

Eragon had already started moving in large strides across the tower towards Arya when he had seen her blood, and so as Faolin's sword came alive in his hand, the silver blur racing onto its vulnerable victim, Arya's arm raised impulsively in a futile attempt to protect herself, the powerful Rider had no other option but to dive.

There was a stunned silence; Alagaesia plunged into freezing water of sluggish moving time, as the blade slashed a swooping arc. There was a horrible wail of screeching mail as the sharp edge cut through steel like a hot knife through butter, rent deep into muscled flesh, drawing a ragged line from one shoulder, across the chest to the opposite hip, its path marked by a spray of an iron-stench of blood filling the air with its retching tang. There was a sharp cry of pain and a shocked yell as Eragon fell to the unforgiving ground with a thump of dust. Blood pooled under his torso, and seeped shallowly through the cracks and lines between the cobblestones.

Eragon weakly lifted his body up with a last burst of adrenaline, dragging himself upright with an unwavering stubbornness that burned like a lit torch in his eyes. He lurched forward, sword above his head, and with a mighty cleave and a quick twist of his hands, his weapon wrenched the traitorous sword of his unguarded opponent spinning out of reach, the hilt bouncing once on the balustrade before gravity did her job, pulled the unwilling object cart wheeling towards her bosom.

Disregarding the lost sword, Eragon turned crisply in a fluid sweep, blazing metallic blue dancing like a serpent into its deadly final strike, biting into an unprotected area, tearing through skin, tendon, bone.

The elf followed soon after his sword, the memory of his unearthly shriek fading into the yonder as liquid life poured from his severed neck, the rest of the body tripped by the same railing, fell ungracefully to it's doom, landing with a dull, muffled smack as a mushroom of dirty red-stained cloud billowed around the crumpled figure like a dramatic finale to a tragic enactment of sorts.

His sword fell from his limp hold as Eragon finally slumped against a pillar, his eyes clouded, and head lolling. His world spun dizzily with his lightheadedness from the heavy blood loss.

"Eragon!"

Arya reached for him, her arms holding him protectively as her breath hitched with the effort of keeping her composure when she felt the dampness of his blood trickling between the links of his armour onto her lap.

His breathing was heavy and when he coughed, a thin trickle of blood slid from the corner of his mouth to his chin.

"Please forgive me for what I have done to Faolin, Arya," Eragon said with a painful smile.

Arya shook her head, hands darting about his chest as she attempted to staunch the flow of blood. "I do not know what overcame the gentle nature I had known him for, Eragon-vor, but you should rest now." She held her hand over his injury, rallying her energy, hoping against hope that his wound would not prove to be fatal.

Eragon struggled to keep his eyes open, but he caught her wrist with a trembling hand, "It is too deep for your magic."

"Eragon, I must!" Arya said as she pulled her hand away from his grip, settling the emerald magic over his gash.

His lips were pale, and he could barely summon the will to make them move enough to speak clearly. "Why did you come back, Arya? You did not to return to your brethren."

"Eragon, I had no choice," She admitted with a gentle smile, "I could not leave you against these creatures of darkness," Arya told him earnestly, holding him close for warmth as he started shivering.

His head resting against her stomach, he let his body sag tiredly as he covered her hand on his wound with his own, "My decision for letting you leave was utter falsehood, Arya, I could not bear to see you involved in the fighting, to be harmed on behalf of the Riders," Eragon said, "Even though you are a mighty warrior."

A fresh breeze blew through the space in between the stones and the pointed roof above them, and Eragon turned his eyes to the red tendrils snaking into the purple horizon with calm eyes.

His wound was half-sealed with all of Arya's efforts, vestiges of blood solidifying into beads of dark red around the injury. She could do nothing more without the healers of the castle. "I have wronged you, Eragon; I misjudged your intentions. Will you forgive me?" She asked quietly.

Eragon would have chuckled if his ribs were not on fire, "Nothing you do, will I ever hold a grudge against. Surely you know that after so long in my company?"

She looked back at him, a small smile on her face.

He had a thoughtful look when he spoke in her silence, "What did you mean," He mused, "When you spoke of my intentions? Just before you left the day the letter came…?"

Arya let out a slow sigh, "I thought…I thought we- were getting closer, Eragon. I thought you- I think I was falling in love with you."

Her gaze seemed distant. She shrugged with a doubtful expression, "Your words, after I opened my thoughts to you, I felt like a fool for letting you see so much of myself, for being presumptuous of your feelings."

She said this frankly, her open honesty so disparate to her race-

Eragon could not help the hoarseness in his voice, struggling to keep the blackness burning at the edges of his vision from overcoming him. "I am the fool, Arya. You were not presumptuous. Angela was correct, I am a knuckleheaded fool," He laughed shakily at the misunderstanding between them and their pride that had come between them, "Because gods knows that my heart_ is_ beating for you in fervor, as it will till the end of time and even beyond."

Arya's breath hitched at his guileless admission, resting her cheek beside his as he slipped into unconsciousness in her arms.

-

"I did not love you in Galbatorix's era, but I would never have guessed that decades after, I would be so frighteningly attached to you," She told a motionless Eragon.

Arya sat beside Eragon's bed in the ward in a wooden chair, his hand clasped in hers, her weak smile slightly ironic.

"But then, I did not know that this would happen either," She said, her eyes lingering on his bandaged chest.

The healers had only been able to magically mend his internal injuries and make shallower the deep gash, the rest had been soaked in herbs and bandaged.

Times like these made old memories resurface; like how Eragon lay in bed after the battle in which his back had been slashed in two, and how she'd waited outside with Murtagh for him to wake up.

And this time, it was taking a very long time for him to regain consciousness.

Eragon had been gently brought back down to ground level by Saphira, with Arya holding him upright in the saddle; he had been rushed by frantic riders into the medical wards.

He had lost much blood by that point; there had not been one hopeful expression as other riders lined the halls of the castle to let them through.

Saphira's presence entered her mind in time to catch her last thought. She said naught but for _I am glad you are safe, Arya svit-kona_.

The dragon's mind was wildly large, unlike any animal or human mind she had ever encountered. It was disconcerting at times, but she supposed Eragon had grown used to it, having spoken to Saphira before he had truly learnt the powers of speaking through his thoughts.

_Thank you, Saphira. I just wish it hadn't taken Eragon to be grievously injured to assure that… but I assume the skirmish has been taken care of? _Arya asked.

_Yes, I rejoined the battle again after I took Eragon to the castle to overthrow the last of the enemy, _Saphira said, a grudging tone of admiration coloured her voice, though it was filled with righteous anger. _They were strong opponents; we have not had a fight like that in a long while. We have one survivor we interrogated. I am busy now; may I ask you to stay with my rider?_

_Of course. _Arya assured her, _Saphira, were you hurt in the battle? _

Saphira chuckled, her amusement seeping through their connection, _Do not worry about me, I know your concerns lie on my rider._

Arya blushed slightly; _His condition is the same, still._

_Is it then…_ Saphira answered sadly in a rhetoric statement, _I wish there were a way for me to see him._

_You can look through my eyes, _Arya offered easily.

Saphira did so eagerly, and Arya felt a large wave of relief cross her mind after the dragon saw her other half.

_I just had to make sure,_ the dragoness said, a little embarrassed at her concern that Arya had realised when their minds joined.

Arya realised how well Saphira was able to mask her emotions when awkwardness permeated the silence between them finally when Saphira was unable to suppress it.

_I have other news, Arya. Eragon's attacker- he was not Faolin. I went to check the body later. It was some kind of a shapechanger. We will never know totally all the tricks this powerful species were able to perform._

Conflicting emotions of relief and confusion struck Arya. She did not know whether to be glad this imposter had not been Faolin, or ashamed she had believed he had been capable of acting as despicably as this shapechanger had.

_They came from another nation Far East side of the Hadarac, further past the way between the Beors and southern-most point of Du Weldenvarden. _Saphira paused to refer to her memory accurately_. The informant told us they were sent to eliminate the rider, as they hold safety over Alagaesia. They traveled in a small group to be underestimated._

_Alagaeisa must be alerted that the present danger has been taken care of, and that they must send out patrols to scout for further signs of invasion,_ Arya said. _This land may fall into another war, willingly or unwillingly. _Feeling defeated, she said morosely,_ I knew this peace could not last; ambition is the greatest folly of man, their thirst for power can never be sated. The great storytellers of elven epics have proved that over and again, have they not?_

Saphira's laugh sounded like a half-snort, _that is true, Arya._

Arya was sure Saphira was rolling her eyes.

The dragon spoke again, seriously- _I will ask one of the elders to write the letters and officially seal it with Eragon's mark._ Pausing before she continued, she seemed uncomfortable. Arya could feel she was debating whether to ask the question that was troubling her mind.

Arya sent a mild nod of encouragement.

Saphira took heart, and she asked gently and slowly, _do you feel no remorse for Faolin? Did you not feel anything when this false image died, even before you knew it were not he?_

_I felt glad Saphira, _Arya said at first, _Glad that he who hurt Eragon died. _Then she stopped to mull over the question..._ But then, I felt a wave of sadness that Faolin would do such a thing. Faolin as I knew him was not a vindictive, or a violent person, except when he was defending people he loved, the elven kingdom, and his honour._

Saphira had one last question, as she touched Arya's mind, not having seen the exchange upon the tower. _Would you have gone to Eragon? _She asked, always feeling responsible for her Rider.

She did not hesitate._ Of course, _Arya said, with a small degree of bashfulness_, Saphira, I acknowledge that I once felt for Faolin. It is gladness that he has been and passed in my life. Now, I feel affection for him, but it is not passion. _

Saphira was quiet, feeling Arya's sincerity within her words. Finally, she was solemn when she said to Arya, _I am happy, for you and Eragon. _

Arya felt gratitude well within her heart; _your approval means much to me, Saphira._

She sensed Saphira's dragonish smile, as Saphira responded, _I shall leave you two alone. I will check up on Eragon later, there is much to be done and bodies to be disposed of. _

-

* * *

It's nearly over!

Man, what a project. Can't believe I managed to slog through so many chapters (for me). It's nothing short of a miracle. To date, I have never finished a multichapter fic out of all twenty-nine (?) fics I've written over these years.

So if you've been here since the beginning of the fic, I admire you very much.

And I appreciate those who joined in halfway through or just last chapter to fill the places of those who _have_ left or are lurking too.

-

**Archillon Shadeslayer**: Nope, stats indicate more people watch/play soccer!

...seems like I've scared off all the critical reviewers, aw I have no one to direct my sarcasm at anymore :(


	20. WARNING  This is not a chapter

Hey guys,

It's been a while, hasn't it? (Three years, actually.)

Recently I've been trawling through the Inheritance fandom (something that hasn't happened in a long while), and somehow I find myself being drawn back into this obsession with Eragon. My interest has for the most part, kindled by some new and totally awesome Eragon/Arya fics (which I've gone and added to my C2). To be honest, Paolini isn't that great of a writer (and even less adept at portraying realistic women) the plot is filled with holes, some of the characters are one dimensional… but there's something about this typical bildungsroman boy-turned-hero fic that still captures my imagination even after this time (maybe it's just the unresolved nature of his epic journey and his relationship with Arya).

As for the purpose of this little note (which I'm sure breaks some kind of ridiculous no-note-posting-as-chapter rule) - it's to do with my own writing. I intend to edit and upload the final chapter of Epic Romance. This may take a while - I just wanted to give people a heads up. The amount of reviews and PMs I've gotten through the years have convinced me to keep my promise in finishing it (even if there isn't much interest in it anymore). I owe it to myself and to all the dedicated readers of this fic. Hopefully I can make it a fitting conclusion, and something much better than the writing I've posted so far, as rereading this fic almost made me die laughing because it's so corny.

Cheers! Hope I'll be talking to some of you that I know from a while back when I was writing Inheritance soon.

FL

(And a big hi-five to my 500th reviewer, ShinyCrobat!)


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